Kickin' It: Vandals Anonymous
by AlphaBetaSoup
Summary: Late one night, someone breaks into and vandalizes the Bobby Wasabi Martial Arts Academy. With no evidence or clues leading to who did it, the Wasabi Warriors try to solve the case on their own. KICK. ALPHA.
1. Chapter 1

***A/N* **

**Hey! It's Alpha with a FanFic based on my latest _Disney_ show addiction. There's a longer A/N at the bottom of the story so please R&R**

**Anyway, DISCLAIMER, DISCLAIMER! I do _not _(read: do _NOT_) own Disney XD's Kickin' It**

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><p>* <strong><span>KIMBERLY CRAWFORD<span>***

I sleepily stumbled down the pavement, shivering as a gust of cold wind blew through the abandoned parking lot. I could barely keep my eyes open since I was so tired. I had stayed up late last night, studying for the Honours Algebra test I had first period. Jack shuffled along beside me just as sleepily, zipping up his hoodie as another icy breeze blew. We both looked pretty out of it with dark bags under our eyes and sleep deprived minds, but in all fairness it was also six o' clock in the morning—the time I _usually_ got up.

Rudy had texted us around five-fifteen earlier this morning, leaving some panicky voice messages on our cellphones, telling us to come to the Bobby Wasabi Martial Arts Academy ASAP. Normally I would have ignored Rudy's rude awakening, but he sounded genuinely freaked out about whatever had occurred at the dojo so I had reluctantly climbed out of bed.

"What do you think went down at the dojo?" Jack asked, catching me before I faceplanted on the cold cement. I had tripped over a small stone and my energy-lacking body had decided not to put my reflexes into action. "Rudy seemed pretty freaked out. More so than usual."

"I don't know. He probably saw a mouse or heard a ghost or something." I reasoned, straightening myself up. I was rather dubious of the importance of Rudy's texts. Rudy was _more_ than well known to exaggerate the severity of certain situations, _especially_ when he was in "Panic Mode".

Jack shook his head slowly, half to rebuke my statement and half to wake himself up. "No. Rudy isn't _that_ scared of mice and he knows the mall isn't haunted."

"Yeah and the last time Rudy saw a mouse he only jumped on a chair and let out a scream even higher than my own." I retorted, "Besides, the only reason Rudy knows that the mall isn't haunted is because he, Jerry, and Eddie went all _Ghostbusters _that one time."

"Yeah," Jack recalled, "That was weird."

"Anyway, don't you think that if whatever Rudy was spazzing about was important he would have texted us again or something?" I asked, and ironically enough, our phones simultaneously began ringing and buzzing. A little surprised, both Jack and I reached into our backpockets to retrieve our respective phones. I scrolled through my texts, a little alarmed that each of my ten texts were marked _urgent_.

Jack scratched his head in mild confusion. "Okay, so I have about ten texts from Rudy, Milton and Jerry and all of them say "urgent"."

"Me too," I said nervously. Okay, so maybe what had happened at the dojo _was_ more serious than I'd thought. I wasn't all that surprised that Jerry and Rudy were sending us freaked out texts since they were both _total_ spazzes, but Milton was pretty rational and probably wouldn't have marked his text as "urgent" unless it really _was_ urgent. Nor would he have sent so many.

"So I'm assuming that Milton and Jerry saw or heard whatever Rudy was talking about." I gave Jack a withering glare at his rather stupid comment and he shrugged as if to say "What?"

Captain Obvious, much?

"No duh! Milton and Jerry are _obviously_ there!" I exclaimed, "And I think something serious went down at the dojo!"

Jack gazed at me with sleepy scepticism, "Well this is a big turnaround for the "Oh so Dubious Miss Crawford". What changed your mind in less than two minutes?"

"The fact that _Milton_ marked his texts as "urgent". That's a red light!"

Jack glanced back down at his iPhone (he had to get a new phone since Eddie lost his in the woods and we were all too freaked out about the bees to go back and get it), "You're right. This must be pretty serious then...and since when did Milton even _have_ a phone and how come his number is in my contacts?"

My eyes widened incredulously. He had to be kidding. He had to, _right_? I chose to blame Jack's slowness on his fatigue. I couldn't really blame him for being so out of it considering the fact that my own comments came a couple seconds too late as I struggled to understand whatever the heck was going on.

"Look, we're almost at the dojo." I said, "All our questions will be answered in a couple seconds."

"They better be." Jack grumbled, "I'm never waking up at five AM again. I love myself too much for this kind of torture."

"Vain much?"

Jack and I managed to push the dojo doors open with minimal trouble since we'd gained a bit of energy and we also had a little help from Milton, who'd seen us coming through the clear glass. Milton looked every bit as exhausted as Jack and I did, but his face showed a whole new emotion—fear.

"Oh, I'm so glad you guys are here!" Milton rambled, "Something _terrible_ happened to the dojo last night!"

"What happened?" Jack asked.

"Take a look!" Milton said.

"Well, we would love to but Jerry and Rudy are in the way." I said snidely. Jerry and Rudy were standing in the arch making it next to impossible to see what had gone down in the dojo. Seeing Jerry speaking rapidly in Spanish and Rudy amid a panic attack made the scene, in my opinion, much more dramatic than it probably was.

Jack and I shoved the bumbling idiots out of the way and took a look at the abomination. And you know how I said Jerry speaking Spanish and Rudy having a panic attack made the scene far more melodramatic than it probably was? Well, I was wrong. Their spazzing in relation to what had happened in the dojo was an _understatement_.

Someone had completely and utterly trashed the whole entire dojo. It was practically vandalized to the point of no return. Rudy's awards and trophies were lying on the floor in a wreck, each of them broken or smashed to bits. The dummies were strewn across the room all dismembered and maimed. The mats were all ripped up and torn to shreds so you could see all the foam and stuff inside. All our lockers were wrenched open, some of them bashed in. I swallowed hard, feeling nauseous when I realized my gi and belt weren't in my locker. Had the vandals stolen my gi? From what Jack and I could see of Rudy's office, it wasn't left in any better condition than the rest of the dojo. In fact, it may have been _worse_.

Jack and I gawked at the state the dojo was in. We were completely dumbstruck. What the _heck_ had happened last night?

Jack recovered first, "What the _heck_!?"

He tried to enter the dojo, but Jerry and Milton pulled him back. Jack tried to fight against them, but gave up a couple seconds later. He probably didn't have the energy to fight.

"You can't go in there, man." Jerry said, finally switching from Spanish to English, "Rudy called the cops and we're not supposed to touch anything until they get here."

"But my gi is gone!" I exclaimed, beginning to hyperventilate.

"Are you sure that's not it?" Milton asked meekly, pointing at the torn up white cloth in the corner by a dummy head.

I groaned, willing myself not to cry. "Oh my _God_."

"Hey guys, what's going on? I came here as fast as I could. I would have been here earlier but my mom..." Seemed like Eddie had arrived. Eddie noticed our forlorn expressions and Rudy's frantic pacing and immediately asked, "So what's the big news about the dojo that couldn't wait until after school?"

We all moved aside so that Eddie could drink in the monstrosity of the completely trashed dojo. Eddie started freaking out, "WHAT THE _FALAFEL BALLS?_"

We had more of a struggle keeping Eddie from entering the dojo than Milton and Jerry did with Jack. Unlike the rest of us, Eddie actually _had_ energy. Far too much energy for my taste. We spent a couple minutes trying to hold Eddie back as he screamed "Someone broke into my locker!" on repeat until Rudy apparently hit his breaking point and yelled at us to shut up.

We each fell absolutely silent and we stayed that way until the cops came in with their yellow tape and other equipment. The cops went all _CSI_ on our dojo, examining items and checking them for fingerprints. Unfortunately they found none suggesting that the culprit had worn gloves and that the break in wasn't just a pack of random teens looking for trouble. The break in and vandalism had been planned and carried out to the fullest extent. According to Officer Teddy (or at least, that's what his nametag said), the best we could do was clean up the dojo and hope that the mall security had caught the incident on tape.

It was the biggest letdown ever. Well, almost—only second to Ricky Weaver actually being the slimebag Jack said he was, of course.

Out of all of us, Rudy seemed the most depressed about what had happened to the dojo and I could understand why. All his trophies, the only memories he had of his past glory, were gone. Each one destroyed to nothing. Who wouldn't be depressed about that?

Rudy let out a loud sigh, "Okay team, let's fix this place up."

"But Rudy, we have school in an hour or so and Kim and I have a math test first period. We don't have time to completely revamp the dojo." Milton said, "We are going to be late."

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><p>And we were late.<p>

By the time we'd managed to fix the dojo up into something that relatively resembled our old dojo, it was fifteen minutes into first period. There was no way Milton and I were going to arrive on time for our algebra test and I was right. Milton and I had to finish our tests during lunch since, by the time we'd all gotten to school, ten more minutes had passed. Not to mention that, due to the fact that we were late, we were all given lunchtime detention.

There went my hopes of a detention-free semester.

Milton and I quickly finished our tests and went to D-Hall to join the rest of the Wasabi Warriors. I sat down in the empty desk next to Jack and Milton plopped down in front of me. Jack handed me a pudding which I took gratefully. Milton and I hadn't been able to snag any food from the cafeteria since we were already late for detention and didn't want double-detention from Mrs. Granger, the grumpy old detention monitor.

"So what are we talking about?" I asked, taking Jack's spoon. "Thanks."

"We're talking about who we think banged up the dojo." Jerry explained.

"I have a feeling Arthur trashed the dojo as some kind of revenge for us getting him in trouble." Eddie announced.

Jack shook his head, "No, the little twerp has already had his revenge with those "apology" brownies, remember?"

Of course we remembered the stupid brownies. Arthur had laced them with ex-lax and we'd all been super sick for roughly three days. The experience had been quite _painful_ and most definitely _horrifying_. Arthur had single-handedly killed my love for brownies, which was kind of a disappointment since Jack's brownies were literally to die for. He was an exceptional cook.

"It was probably Truman or something. His dad _does_ have the keys to every building in the mall so it probably wouldn't have been very hard for Truman to break in." Jack explained, "Besides, isn't it a _little_ suspicious that the mall cops just so happened _not_ see anyone in the mall last night?"

Jack did have a point. The person who vandalized our dojo had to know exactly when the mall cops were making their rounds or else they would have been easily caught.

"You guys..." Milton cut in, "_Anybody_ could have broken into the dojo. Believe it or not we have quite a few...um..._enemies_."

"Oh yeah? Like who?" Jerry asked.

"Um well, the Black Dragons, Truman, Arthur, Rue, the Ninja Warriors, _Smooth_, Justin, Carson, Ricky Weaver, also—"

"Okay!" I exclaimed, unsure if I could take anymore additions to our "enemy" list. "So there are a _lot_ of people out to get us, but only one person, so to speak, has and we need to find out who that person was as soon as possible!"

"Kim's right!" Jack exclaimed. We exchanged a glance and a warm feeling shot through me. "We need to find out who the vandals are and we need to find out now. I mean, if they can break into our rather poorly secured dojo, what else can they break into?"

"Dude, are you talking about our homes?" Jerry's eyes widened, "I don't want no stranger climbing through our windows!"

"And let me guess, you also don't want them snatching our people up?" I asked sarcastically.** ****

"What?" Jerry obviously didn't get the joke.

"You guys, focus. This is serious." Milton chastised, "At worst case scenario we could all be in extreme danger. Us _and_ our families."

An image of my family flashed through my mind followed by an image of what my family would probably look like after a massacre. I shuddered and tried to push the thought of my family actually dying into the murky depths of my mind. Clearly I've been watching too many _Datelines_.

"Okay you guys, we need to make a pact." Jack said.

Eddie raised his eyebrows, "For what?"

"We need to promise that we'll work together to find out who the vandal or vandals are and that we'll bring him, her or them to justice." Jack explained. He stood up and put his fist into the palm of his other hand, "So, wasabi?"

"Wasabi!" Milton, Jerry, Eddie and I echoed, copying Jack's gesture and standing up in agreement.

"SILENCE!" Mrs. Granger bellowed. We all sat down hastily, "Do you children want _another_ detention?"

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><p><strong>*AN* **

**Anyway, I had a _lot_ of fun writing this FanFic so I hope everyone enjoys it. Chapter 2 is in the editing process and Chapter 3 is half written so I hope people like this story because if so, I'll post the next 2 chapters. If I have any grammatical errors please tell me because I'm usually pretty uptight about grammar (it drives my sister INSANE) but I often review this FanFic late at night when I'm sort of out of it. Haha. **

**So, did anyone understand the joke Jerry didn't understand? I gave it two asterisks (*). Comment if you know, people! I'll explain it if no one gets it in my Chapter 2 A/N but my sister got it right away so I hope you all do too (HINT: It has something to do with both Kim AND Jerry's comments as well as a song). And are you surprised the Wasabi Warriors have so many enemies on the show? My sister and I were discussing it (that, and the fact there's a guest star in _every_ episode). Also, who do YOU think wrecked the dojo? Comment about your ideas. **

**On a side note, I'm not too sure how Jack/Kim heavy this FanFic is going to get. Jack and Kim are together a lot in the next 2 chapters (more so in chapter 3) so I want to know from you guys where all this Jack/Kim-ness should lead to. Biffles (BFFLs) or Couples?**

**Okay, so I'm off to edit Chapt. 2, finish writing Chapt. 3 and I'm going to start planning Chapt. 4.**

**Hasta la vista, _Alpha! _**

**_PS: Do NOT (read: NOT) put ex-lax in brownies!_**


	2. Chapter 2

***A/N* **

**Hey! It's Alpha again with my 'Kickin' It' FanFic. Like before there's a longer A/N at the bottom of the story so please R&R**

**Oh yeah, and to all those who figured out the joke, HURRAY! The joke was a reference to Antoine Dodson's _Bed Intruder_ song.**

**And Rue (and the Ninja Warriors) are _unconfirmed_ characters from an _unconfirmed_ episode 'Kickin' It with Rue.' It was on Wikipedia (in the past) so I just tacked them on for randoms.**

**Anyway, DISCLAIMER, DISCLAIMER! I do _not _(read: do _NOT_) own Disney XD's Kickin' It**

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><p>* <strong><span>KIMBERLY CRAWFORD<span>** *

As soon as school ended, Jack and I rushed to the dojo to check on Rudy. I'd decided to skip out on a Pep Squad practice since I was so worried about Rudy. When we'd finally left the dojo for Seaford this morning, Rudy had seemed quite depressed about the destruction of his trophies—let alone the rest of the dojo—and Jack and I just wanted to make sure he was alright. When upset, Rudy acted pretty weird (i.e.: Crying Boots), but Jack and I had never seen Rudy so unhappy before and so we were a little frightened to see what Rudy was up to.

"Rudy?" Jack called tentatively, pushing the door open. We hesitantly walked inside, silently preparing ourselves for whatever strange sight that would come to greet us. To our relief, Rudy wasn't inside the dojo trying to eat the remains of the training dummies or having a seizure or anything like that. Rudy's office door was closed and we could hear Rudy's muffled voice. Maybe he was on the phone with his therapist.

Jack and I dropped our homework-laden bags by the bench and took a seat, waiting for Rudy to finish up whatever he was doing in his office.

"Do you think he's talking to a shrink in there?" Jack asked me. It seemed as though I wasn't the only one who thought Rudy may have gone clinically insane in the last six hours.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I sure hope not though. If Rudy's mental undoing comes from this disaster, I will personally seek out the vandals and kill them with my bare hands."

Jack looked at me, slightly disturbed, "Uh Kim, I think _you_ should go get some help."

I smacked Jack's shoulder as hard as I could which, by the way, _was_ pretty hard. "_Jack!_"

"Ow! Kimmy, violence is _not_ the answer!" Jack whined as he rubbed his obviously-going-to-be-bruised shoulder. "Anyway, Rudy stopped talking. I think he's done his session."

I decided to ignore my godawful nickname (Jack was _obviously_ just trying to get under my skin) and chose to listen for any sound of life in Rudy's office. Jack was right. Rudy's muffled speech had stopped and not a sound echoed from the office. Jack and I both stood up.

"Rudy?" I called.

It was silent for a minute and then...

"KIM! JACK!" Rudy's door flung open. Jack and I gave a yelp of surprise as Rudy barrelled towards us in a flurry of..._excitement_? It was quite a startling change from his extreme depression this morning. Rudy pulled Jack and I into a lung-squishing hug. Seriously, Jack and I were struggling to breathe. Luckily, just as I was starting to see spots, Jack managed to choke out, "Rudy, you are suffocating us!"

"Oh sorry," Rudy released us. Jack and I desperately gasped for air, perhaps a little _too_ melodramatically since Rudy was giving us weird looks.

"So what happened while we were at school?" I asked once I'd managed to catch my breath, "You seemed pretty upset when we left and now look at you. You're all psyched up!"

"I know!" Rudy was bouncing on the balls of his feet like a little child struggling to contain his excitement. It was kind of cute but a major relief to see Rudy so upbeat.

"This morning I called Bobby Wasabi to explain to him what happened to the dojo last night and he _just_ got back to me a couple minutes ago, like, that was him on the phone just now. Any who, Bobby Wasabi gave me the biggest surprise _ever_ not even thirty seconds ago! The surprise is even bigger than the birthday present you gave me, Jack! And the present _was_ Bobby Wasabi!" Rudy's enthusiasm was more contagious than Swine Flu. I couldn't stop grinning and I could tell Jack was having just as much trouble as I was not to smile. If Rudy got any happier I swear my face would split in two.

"So what did Bobby say?" Jack asked.

"Bobby said he'd send renovators over as soon as possible for, you know, the broken lockers and stuff, and guess what?" Rudy paused to build suspense, "We won't have to pay for the renovation! Bobby Wasabi's going to pay for us! This place is getting renovated for free!"

Jack and I cheered loudly, hi-fiving Rudy. We were happy that things were starting to look up since this awful morning.

"Rudy, that's great!" I said.

"Yeah, I know right?" Rudy squealed, jumping up and down, "And the best part is, he's also paying to get replicas of _all_ my trophies—every single one!"

"That's awesome!" Jack exclaimed, "I can't believe Bobby Wasabi is paying for all the damage! He really is an amazing guy!"

"Yeah, I'm well aware!" Rudy looked so much more elated than he did this morning and I was feeling giddy with joy so I couldn't help but to ask, "Group-hug?"

Jack and Rudy immediately lunged in for a hug and we all clung to one another, jumping up and down—completely out of sync—and hugging like we were in _High School Musical_. I could feel the happiness radiating from my pores as well as their own pores (okay, a little weird but you get the gist of it). As we hugged I couldn't help but to think that we should go somewhere to celebrate. _Captain_ _Corndog_ or...

"Hey? Are you guys group-hugging without me?"

We released each other and looked towards the door at the newcomer who'd just ruined the happy moment. Naturally the newcomer was no one other than Jerry.

Jerry had gotten detention not even two minutes after we'd gotten_ out_ of lunchtime detention and apparently he'd escaped early which was absolutely outrageous. Seriously, you'd think that by now the school would have realized that Jerry was a flight-risk considering all the times he's escaped.

"Aw Jerry," Rudy smiled and motioned for him to come over, "Come join in!"

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><p>"Yeah...yeah...yeah...Alyssa I am <em>so<em> sorry for missing Pep Squad practice but I had...um...uh...a..._family emergency_. I honestly would have come if I could. Yeah well...right...tell Donna...okay...bye." I pressed the end button on my phone, hoping that Alyssa hadn't been able to tell that I was lying through my teeth. But considering the fact that I apparently wore my heart on my sleeve and also on my larynx, I highly doubted Alyssa believed my weak lie. Whatever.

The Wasabi Warriors were like my second family so_ technically_ I wasn't lying, but each to their own.

I slid my phone into my backpocket and quickly spun the dial of my lock. First period started in a couple minutes and I still had to return one of my library books before it became overdue.

I swung my (now Ricky Weaver-free) locker open and, to my surprise, a note fell out. I picked the folded piece of paper off the floor with interest. It wasn't every day that I received a mystery note in my locker. Well to be honest, it _was_. Most guys were too afraid to ask me out to my face and so I usually received several locker-notes, but for the last week my locker had been completely note-free (to my relief). Well, it _had_ been note-free until now.

I unfolded the note and began reading it, my smile slowly sliding off my face at each word. My good mood from yesterday's group-hug quickly evaporated and was replaced with alarm. I couldn't believe what was happening. I truly couldn't. Things had taken a disturbing turn and it seemed like it was heading for the worst.

I whipped out my phone and immediately sent out a mass-text to the other Warriors telling them I'd received a strange note in my locker. No sooner than I'd pressed the send button did the guys reply to my anxious text. My heart sunk at each of their replies: _Me too_.

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><p>I bolted out of school the minute the last bell had rung, signalling the end of the day.<p>

The strange note had put me on edge and I just _had_ to find out what it was about. I'd spent the whole day a total wreck and even my teachers had noticed something was up since they'd all offered me a Sick Pass to go see the nurse. Naturally, I'd turned them all down.

The guys weren't in any better condition than I was. Jerry and Eddie were actually _quiet_ at lunch and Jack had no encouraging, optimistic words to share. None. At. All. Jack was always positive—for the most part—but that note seemed to have shaken even _him_ up.

The note said: _So you're getting the dojo back together, huh? All that hard work trashing it for nothing. Well, let's just see how quickly you can reassemble your rooms, shall we?_

None of us were one hundred percent sure what that meant (though, in retrospect, it should have been blatantly obvious) and that was the part that scared us the most. Well, that and the fact that the vandals had somehow found out that Bobby Wasabi was going to fix up the dojo for us. Jack and I were there that afternoon when Rudy got the call. There was no way that anybody was hiding in the dojo or else we might have seen them. _Unless_ the vandals had planted voice recorders in the dojo...

The notes were kind of useless since they held no clues as to who had made them either. They were typed out instead of handwritten, so we couldn't compare handwriting samples. On a personal level, though the notes were creepy enough as is, it probably would have scared me a lot more if the notes had been made up of random letters from magazines instead of being typed. You know, like those ransom letters in movies. But again, that was just on a personal level.

As I sped home, I wondered what exactly the note meant. Did the vandals _actually_ break into my room? I shook the thought out of my head. Nah, they couldn't have. My windows were latched and closed. Besides, you'd think that the neighbours would have spotted someone trying to climb into my bedroom. The vandals were bluffing to freak us out.

Out of nervous energy I fumbled with my house key a couple times before sliding it into the lock and struggling with door. When I finally unlocked the front door, I barged inside, almost forgetting to close and lock the door. I didn't even take my shoes or backpack off when I bounded up the stairs for my bedroom. I was impatient to check my room since it was, after all, the place the strange note referred to.

I stood at my bedroom door apprehensively for a couple seconds so I could build some mental walls and gather my frenzied emotions before I let my anticipation get the best of me. I slowly turned the knob and threw the door open. Although I was mentally and emotionally ready to be scarred for life, my mental preparations still did not prevent me from dropping my bag in shock.

"Kim?" my mom called my name several times but each time it fell on deaf ears.

I couldn't believe it. My room looked as if a whirl-wind of a twister had hit. It looked like the locusts had attacked. It looked like some sort of natural disaster had started and then spontaneous combusted in my room.

The tidy, neat place my room had once been was now no more.

My desk had been riffled through, all my papers and notebooks open and strewn across my desk. I could barely see my laptop beneath the mess. Books from my bookshelf were scattered around my room, pages ripped out and scribbled upon. All my posters were either ripped or hanging onto the wall for dear life. My closet was wide open and my drawers were hanging out, all my clothes thrown around the room. I saw clothes I didn't even know I _had_ sitting in piles around my room. Now as to where my stuffed giraffe, Mr. Long-Neck (What? I was six okay!) was, I didn't know but I sure wish I did.

I stood there silently, completely and utterly flabbergasted until it finally hit me. And when it did hit me, it hit me _hard._ I swallowed, struggling to fight back my oncoming nausea. I was pretty sure I was going to throw up.

The vandals had not been bluffing. The vandals really _had_ broken into my room. The vandals had probably broken into the guys' rooms as well. If the last part was true then all of us really _were_ in danger.

* * *

><p><strong>*AN***

**So this chapter wasn't _all_ that exciting. I've rewritten it so many times in hopes of making it better but it still seems so boring to me. And just to clarify, when I edit things it can me up to three days since I like to perfect my story and I reread it over and over again to check for any mistakes I miss. So if a new chapter doesn't come out for a while, then you know why. **

**This was more like a filler to set up the plot for chapter 3, 4 and 5 (Yeah, I'm rewriting the end of chapter 3 and I've planned chapter 4 and 5). The kids had to receive the note for chapter 3 to work out and what happens in chapter 3 affects chapter 4. Bobby Wasabi had to renovate the dojo since something the kids discover relates to the renovation in chapter 5. Also, there is a minor connection to what happens in chapter 3 to chapter 5.**

**I'm also having problems with how I ended this chapy. I don't know, I just really don't like it. It seems slightly rushed but it also expresses how Kim was rushing home or whatever.**

**On a happier note, aren't you guys thrilled that Kickin' It officially has its own category! Too bad I can't move my story into it! GGGAAAAAHHHHHH!**

**Now, here's an excerpt from chapter 3:**

_"My mom didn't really care that my room was messy." We all turned and raised our eyebrows at Jerry. He raised his eyebrows back at us, "What? There are nine of us living in that house, man! Me, my mom, and my sisters! Besides, I actually think the vandals cleaned up a bit. I found the grilled cheese sandwich I lost two months ago."_

_At the thought of a two month old grilled cheese sandwich, the rest of us Warriors promptly pushed our lunch trays away, feeling slightly too grossed out to continue our subpar meal._

_"Did you eat it?" Jack asked weakly._

_Jerry looked at us like we were stupid, "Duh! Of course I ate it! Why would I waste a perfectly good grilled cheese sandwich?"_

_We all groaned in disgust, completely losing any appetite we might have been able to regain. I facepalmed in disbelief, "Oh my god, Jerry. That's flipping disgusting."_

_"Why? I got rid of the mouldy parts." Jerry looked confused._

_Jack and I dryheaved and Eddie banged his head against the table incredulously._

**How'd you guys like it? I'm trying not to give away the plot of chapter 3 so here is the random part. Love it? Hate it? Comment on it!**

**PS: Don't forget to read my other little one-shot ALL about Jerry, _I'm not gonna teach him how to Dance_**

**PPS: Think about that voice recorder comment, it will be important in the upcoming chapters...**


	3. Chapter 3

***A/N* **

**Hey! It's Alpha again with my 'Kickin' It' FanFic. Like before there's a longer A/N at the bottom of the story so please R&R**

**And to the anon who asked, Rue is a _Guest Star_, not a main character.**

**Anyway, DISCLAIMER, DISCLAIMER! I do _not _(read: do _NOT_) own Disney XD's Kickin' It**

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><p>* <strong><span>KIMBERLY CRAWFORD<span> ***

"And the weirdest part was, it didn't seem like the vandals stole anything." I explained, "They just messed up my room and got me in some serious doo-doo with my mom. She said I had an hour to clean my room or else I was grounded."

It was lunchtime at Seaford High and the guys and I were discussing our unnerving discovery: the fact that someone had broken into our rooms and had trashed them without leaving any hints or clues that they'd even been in there. When I'd tried to explain to my mother that someone had broken into my room she'd just given me a sceptical look and told me that if my room wasn't in order in exactly one hour, I wouldn't be allowed out of the house this weekend. Then she'd went on to explain that she'd been home all day and didn't hear anyone upstairs so it was impossible that anyone had broken in.

The last part really freaked me out. The fact that the vandals could sneak into my house with my mom home really made me wonder what else they were capable of. Even though I'd tried to push the thought out of my mind, it was pretty obvious that the vandals were capable of a _lot_.

"I know. My mom grounded me for the rest of the week because of the stupid vandals." Eddie pouted.

"Mine too." Jack admitted, "My mom was pretty peeved that my room was messier than usual. She told me that if my room wasn't clean by this evening, my punishment would be worse than the _death penalty_."

"My mom didn't really care that my room was messy." We all turned and raised our eyebrows at Jerry. He raised his eyebrows back at us, "What? There are nine of us living in that house, man! Me, my mom, my sisters! Besides, I actually think the vandals cleaned up a bit. I found the grilled cheese sandwich I lost two months ago."

At the thought of a two month old grilled cheese sandwich, the rest of us Warriors promptly pushed our lunch trays away, feeling slightly too grossed out to continue our subpar meal.

"Did you eat it?" Jack asked weakly.

Jerry looked at us as if we were stupid. "Duh! Of course I ate it! Why would I waste a perfectly good grilled cheese sandwich?"

We all groaned in disgust, completely losing any appetite we might have been able to regain. I facepalmed in disbelief. "Oh my _God_, Jerry. That's _flipping_ disgusting."

"Why? I got rid of the mouldy parts." Jerry said, looking more than a little confused.

Jack and I dryheaved, Eddie banged his head against the table incredulously, and Milton covered his ears, a look of horror quickly sliding across his face, "_GAH!_ _Holy_ Christmas nuts! _Jerry!_ Stop talking! Do you know how _unsanitary_ it is to eat mouldy food?"

Jerry slid down into his seat and glared at us, obviously pouting over our reactions to his "_lovely"_ meal. What had been the reactions he was expecting? For us to glorify him for surviving food poisoning? We had already done that about a bazillion times thanks to our cruddy cafeteria food. In fact, I think I may be immune to several foodborne bacteria now.

Once we'd mostly recovered from Jerry's scarring, Milton cleared his throat, "Back on topic, last night's incidents proved that the vandals _can_ break into our houses without being caught. It seems like some sort of warning."

"But how do we know that the vandals really did it? Maybe there really was a cat-burglary." Eddie suggested, lifting his head up from the table.

I rolled my eyes. "Really Eddie? A burglary that occurred at _all_ our houses in just _our_ rooms with _nothing_ stolen? If that's the case then that cat-burglar should really just leave the business. He's putting the whole "robber" name to shame."

"Whatever," Eddie muttered.

"Look, we really need to find out who's after us and why _now_." Jack clarified, "The whole issue is getting more serious, and since our own parents won't believe us, I highly doubt the cops will either."

"I'll compile a list of all the people who we know hate us." Milton said, "Then we can go down the list one by one or two by two, to go faster. Eventually we may find the culprit."

"But what if it's not obvious that the culprit hates us?" I questioned. Being a cheerleader and also being a part of the school news team, I'd learned that just because someone smiled at you, did not mean that they liked you.

"Well, we have to try something." Jack announced, "Everyone should stay at home with their parents tonight just in case something happens."

I groaned at Jack's suggestion. Tonight it was going to be just me and my five-year-old brother, Henry, since my parents had decided that they were going out on a date (they do so every so often to keep their relationship _fresh_). Great. Of course the night my parents should be at home protecting Henry and I they are out eating at some fancy restaurant. Just my luck—or lack thereof.

* * *

><p>It was about seven o' clock when my parents finally left for their "date".<p>

They gave me the usual rundown: no opening doors for strangers, no telling strangers I was home alone if they called, leftover casserole was in the fridge if Henry and I got hungry again, make sure Henry was in bed by eight with the lights out at eight-thirty, all our important phone numbers were by the fridge and blah, blah, blah. They basically regurgitated all the things they'd been telling me since I was about ten.

Normally, I would have been kind of relieved when they'd finally kissed Henry and I goodbye and promised to be home around ten because, as much as I loved my parents, they could get a little crazy about the whole "safety" thing. But tonight I almost pleaded for them to stay.

The whole vandals thing was really freaking me out and I didn't want to be left home alone knowing that the vandals could slip into my house without my knowledge. I mean, wasn't that the perfect set up for a murder?

But they left and my initial fear faded a bit. Time passed quickly and sooner than later, I had tucked Henry into bed and was making myself popcorn for the TV I'd be watching before I went upstairs at nine-thirty and shut off the light at ten.

I was well aware it was a school night, but a little TV before bed never hurt anyone, right?

Once my popcorn had popped I took it out of the microwave and walked to the den. I turned on the TV and flipped through the channels until I found my favourite horror movie, _When a Stranger Calls_, on. I had first watched that movie at a Pep Squad slumber party and fell in absolute love with it. While all the other girls whimpered in fear, I had watched in pure fascination, waiting for the events to unfold. The first twenty minutes of the movie were totally freaky, but beyond that it was no scarier than a _Dateline_.

I leaned forward in my seat, momentarily forgetting about my popcorn, in anticipation of the upcoming scene; the moment when Jill Johnson saw the shadow of the creepy stalker guy who'd killed the kids. I had watched this movie several times, but this part never got old or any less freaky. I gasped in giddy excitement as the lights in the movie went on—and the lights in my house went off.

What the _heck?_

I stood up, placing my bowl of popcorn on the floor and my soda right next to it, and headed to the light switch. I tried it a couple times to no avail. The power had gone off. Oh the irony of it all. Just as I was getting to the good part of my movie, the power just _had_ to cut off and to make it even better, the moment the lights had turned on in the movie, mine had turned off.

Using my cell as a flashlight, I headed downstairs into the basement to find the breaker box. Maybe I could flip one of those switch thingies and turn the lights back on.

Thank _God_ Henry was asleep. If he were awake he would have been freaking out, not because he was afraid of the dark, but because he believed that if the lights went out without a cause it meant that someone was about to kill you like in those old horror movies. My horror movies and I may or may not have been the cause of Henry's irrational fear.

I shook my head in amusement, still thinking about Henry's belief, as I felt the walls for the breaker box. After a couple seconds of feeling the wall up and running into unknown objects, my fingers finally made contact with cold metal. Aha! I had found the breaker box.

I opened it and began randomly flipping switches and flipping them back, hoping that at least one of them would turn a light on. I ran upstairs and checked to see if a light went on every time I flipped a switch, but each time I was met with a sea of darkness.

About halfway through the line, I gave up. The power was dead, dead, dead and there was no way I was going to be able to finish my movie tonight.

I slammed the breaker door shut and walked back upstairs, my cell illuminating whatever was less than two feet in front of me.

But as I walked back up to the main floor, I couldn't help but to feel a little paranoid as if something strange was about to happen. I chose to ignore my growing paranoia. I was probably on edge because of the movie I'd been watching. That's all.

When I reached the living room, the strange feelings stopped and I sighed with relief, plopping down on the couch. Just as I was about to reach for my popcorn, my cellphone rang.

I immediately answered. "Hello? Kim Crawford, here."

Funny, there was no answer. I hung up. It was probably just a wrong number call. I reached for my soda this time and the phone rang again. Like before, when I picked up, no one answered. The third time my phone rang I picked up and yelled, "JERRY, EDDIE AND JACK! I SWEAR IF IT'S YOU GUYS CALLING ME YOU BETTER STOP RIGH—"

"_It's not your friends_." The line went dead before I could even speak.

I started feeling a little queasy, my paranoia picking up steam. Okay, that was weird. Someone—who was supposedly not Jerry, Eddie or Jack—had just called me. And due to the fact that the mystery caller had used the voice distorter option on the phone, I couldn't place the voice.

I could barely move. I was actually paralyzed with fear. I thought those kinds of things only happened in movies, but apparently I was wrong because it was happening to me right now.

All these strange thoughts began ricocheting through my mind with the biggest one being, "_Am I about to star in my own horror or slasher film?"_ I was absolutely petrified, just terrified out of my mind. I recoiled from my phone when it began ringing again. I picked up a couple rings in and shakily said, "H-h-hello?"

The line went dead around the same time a loud thump sounded from some part of the house.

Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my flipping _God!_

Someone was in my _flipping_ house! SOMEONE WAS HERE IN MY _FLIPPING_ HOUSE WITH ME! Panicking, I quickly dialled the first number that popped into my mind; Jack's.

'_Come on, Jack! Pick up your flipping phone!_' I thought as I nervously played with a loose strand of hair that had escaped from my messy bun. My eyes darted around the room for signs of any unwanted visitors. I became more frantic when I heard another loud thump, this one sounding a little closer than the last. Why the _heck_ wasn't Jack picking up his stupid—?

"Hello?" Jack sounded a little breathless and I could hear water running in background. Maybe he'd been taking a shower.

"Jack, come over ASAP! I think there's someone in my house!" I hissed into the phone.

"What? Why? Kim, what's going on?"

"I'm home alone, the power went out, someone's prank calling me and I'm hearing these strange noises."

"Then call the cops?"

"No! I think they're the vandals or something. Besides, what would the cops do? My own parents don't believe that someone broke into my room, and if I tell the cops the power went out at my place while I was watching a scary movie, they'll just laugh in my face thinking I'm just being paranoid!" I jumped. There was another loud thump and I was pretty sure it came from only a few feet away.

Jack sighed. "Fine. But are you _sure_ you're not just freaking out because you really _are_ paranoid? Seriously, you were watching a _horror_ movie when the power went out. Anyway, why did you call me instead of Milton or Eddie? They live much closer to you than I do."

I could feel my face heating up but I wasn't entirely too sure why. "Yeah and those two got beat up by Bobby Wasabi's cruddy ninjas! Please come over, Jack. Please?"

There was a long silence between us before Jack finally broke it, "Okay, I'll come over. Be there as soon as possible."

* * *

><p>And Jack wasn't kidding.<p>

Not even ten minutes later, Jack showed up on his skateboard, wearing his PJ bottoms with his hair still wet from his shower. I sighed with relief as soon as I saw him board in. I had been cowering by the front door waiting for Jack's arrival, using an umbrella from the umbrella stand as a weapon in case the vandal came near me. My paranoia had intensified greatly when I heard two more thumps and for some strange reason I felt as if someone was watching me.

"Jack, thank _God_ you're here!" I said as I yanked him inside, slamming the door behind him. "There've been more strange—"

I was cut off by my cellphone's ring. I stared down at the glowing screen and Jack raised an eyebrow at me, "Aren't you going to pick up?"

I hit the answer button and pressed the speakerphone button. "H-h-hello?"

"_Hello Kim, Jack..._"

Jack's eyes widened in alarm. "What the—?"

"_Yes, well aware that you are there, Jack, with your girlfriend Kimberly..._"

My face burned, "We are _not_..."

I couldn't even finish my statement since the phone went dead and all we could hear was the dialling tone. Jack and I stared at one another for the longest of time, both scared out of our flipping minds. Okay, so whoever was calling me could see _exactly_ what I was doing even though it was pitch black. ESP or...?

"Someone is tracking us." Jack said in a low whisper, "Or watching us. You might be right, Kim. Someone might actually be here with us. Right. Now."

I was too scared to even retort, "Kim Crawford is _always_ right." This was just not the place or the time for that. Someone was actually within visionary distance with me and I had no idea who. Then, to top it all off, we didn't even know how many people may be here. The caller had made sure not to identify his or her gender or whether there were more than one of them or not. Whoever was creeping us sure knew what they were doing because I was beyond creeped out!

Jack and I jumped, clinging onto one another when we heard another loud thump followed by another even closer one. Jack positioned himself in front of me as if he were trying to protect me although _I_ was the one with the ever-so-threatening umbrella. Even though I _hated_ playing damsel-in-distress, for some strange reason I allowed him to and even cowered into him.

It must have been the smell of his shower gel getting to me or something because, my _God_, that stuff was about as intoxicating as small sprits of _Axe_ (not that big spray-spree of _Axe_ guys seemed to think that girls liked even though it made us gag).

When it was obvious a psychopathic serial killer wasn't about to jump out at us from the shadows, we separated. Jack looked at me seriously, "So what do we do? We can't call the cops or anything..."

"Um," I could barely think as I was feeling a little lightheaded from Jack's scent, "I don't know what to do. What _can_ we do?"

Jack opened his mouth to respond but was silenced as another loud thump echoed. This time it was not even a foot away from us. That was when I decided to officially start acting like I was in a horror movie and made a break for it. I sprinted blindly with Jack trailing behind me. I'd ditched the umbrella by the door, not wanting it to weigh me down as I ran, so if the vandals jumped out at me, I sure as heck was a goner.

When we'd made it to the kitchen (I think) we stopped running. Jack pointed towards the phone in my hand, his breathing slightly heavier than before, and said, "It's ringing."

I glanced down at my phone. I hadn't even heard it ring in my panic. Once again I pressed the answer button and then speakerphone button. "Hello?"

"_Seems like you two got away. Too bad for Henry..._"

My blood went cold as the dial tone went on. Oh. My. _God_.

Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my flipping _God!_

"Henry," Jack said simply.

Using our phones to illuminate the way, Jack and I bolted upstairs. I was totally freaking out. Something might have happened to Henry. Someone might have done something to Henry. If anything happened to Henry... I couldn't even bring myself to finish my thought.

"Henry?" I called softly, pushing my brother's bedroom door open. My stomach dropped when I realized there was no answer. I tried again, "Henry?"

"Uh Kim..." Jack illuminated Henry's bed and my heart actually stopped, like, I was legally dead for a couple seconds. Henry's bed was..._empty_.

I staggered away from Henry's bed, hyperventilating. This could not be happening. This seriously could not be happening. Henry could not just be _gone_. No, that was impossible. He would have been kicking and screaming, right? _Right_?

My breath got caught in my throat for a second and then I broke down, completely submitting myself to my tears. I was not one to cry easily, trust me. Proof of that was the fact that I didn't even cry like most girls would have over Ricky Weaver. But this was way more traumatizing than Ricky being a jerk. Someone had _actually_ kidnapped my very own little brother from right under my nose.

When Jack finally realized that I was crying, he walked over to me and hesitantly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. I cried into his shoulder as he tried to convince me that Henry was okay, but the uncertainty in his voice just made me cry even harder. We stood there, embraced like that as I cried and he tried to comfort me. His shower gel didn't even affect me anymore. I was too frazzled to care about Jack's scent.

I just wanted to die. I seriously just wanted to—

"Kimmy, what are you doing?"

I froze.

I turned from Jack's shoulder tentatively, not one hundred percent sure I wanted to believe what was happening, "Henry?"

"Hi!" Henry gave Jack and me a little wave and my body flooded with relief. I could feel my spirits lifting. Henry was _not_ dead. Henry was perfectly fine! There was only so much I could do to prevent myself from screaming with joy.

"Oh my _gosh!_ Henry! I—" Naturally the inquisitive little boy cut me off. Henry looked up at Jack and I, "Jackie, when did you get here? And Kimmy, why are you and Jackie hugging? Are you two both gonna kiss like mommy and daddy?"

Upon that question Jack and I made haste and pulled apart, blushing ferociously as we did so. Jack and I stepped away from one another and I shook my head at Henry, "No, we're not going to kiss."

Henry studied my tear-streaked face, "Kimmy, were you _crying_? Was that why Jackie was hugging you? To stop you from crying? Why were you crying?"

I bent down and pulled Henry close to me, engulfing him in the biggest hug I'd probably ever given him in my (and his own) life. He squirmed, trying to escape, but I didn't let go of him. In fact, I think my grip tightened. I let out a well deserved sigh of relief, "I was crying because I thought you'd been lost forever."

Henry finally wiggled out of my grasp, "But Kimmy, I'm perfectly fine. See? And I wasn't lost."

"Then where were you, Henry?" Jack asked as he kneeled down beside me.

"Well," Henry paused as if he was trying to remember something, "I was sleeping and then I woke up feeling really thirsty so I got out of bed and got a drink from the bathroom. It was really dark though, so I kept falling over lots and walking into walls."

"Wait a minute," Jack and I exchanged a glance and he nodded for me to continue, "Henry, did you hear _any_ strange noises when you were going to get a drink? Any weird _thumping_ noises?"

Henry shook his head, "No. I didn't hear anything. Why?"

I stood up and took a step back from Henry. Okay, majorly weird. So Henry hadn't heard the weird thumping noises that Jack and I had heard. Henry probably hadn't seen anyone either leaving two questions—one: was somebody _actually_ here? And two: what _was_ that strange noise? I really wanted to say that the strange noises I'd been hearing had been Henry walking into walls but I knew the timing and placement was all wrong.

Jack stood up as well and gave me a look, obviously wondering the same things I was.

I shoved the thoughts to the back of my mind, not wanting to scare Henry (or myself) thinking about what had really been going on tonight. I forced a smile at Henry, "It doesn't matter. Let's go downstairs for some chocolate milk and then Jack and I will tell you a story to help you fall asleep."

"Yeah," Jack said, "Here, take my phone so you'll be able to see and not walk into walls."

'_Like Jerry_.' I'm pretty sure we both mentally added.

"Okay!" Henry squeaked excitedly. Henry bounded ahead of us, using Jack's phone as a light, and Jack and I smiled at one another. For some weird reason, I kind of felt like we were some old married couple for a second.

"Oh yeah, by the way, Jack?"

"Yeah, Kim?"

I looked at Jack seriously, "Don't tell _anyone_ that I was crying or I will seriously _hurt_ you. Is that clear?"

Jack laughed, "Yeah Kim, I won't tell anyone you actually have _feelings_."

I rolled my eyes at Jack and pushed him out of the room. As we walked downstairs my phone rang and I picked up, wanting to hear what the vandals were going to say this time, "Hello?"

"_So Kimmy, did you like your happy ending?_"

* * *

><p><strong>*AN* **

**Oh my goodness, this is my longest chapter ever and I think it's also my favourite! I worked on it for about three hours straight, starting at nine-thirty PM. This chapter probably has the fewest edits and I'm just so happy with it :)**

**And thank all of you guys for reading and commenting. I had the first chapter sitting in Doc Manager for three days worrying about posting since I was afraid no one would like it. And I've been keeping tabs on _all_ your guys' stories as well, just on my iPod. Most of your stories are actually faved on my iPod so even if I'm not faved online, I'm still keeping track. I just haven't been able to browse around the site much yet.**

**Anyway, until further notice, the next two chapters should be more _mystery_ than _horror_. I don't know what compelled me to write this thing but I did. I guess it probably has something to do with the fact that I was reading Urban Legends and found the _Babysitter and the Mysterious Caller_ one. Haha.**

******Now there is a little bonus chapter up and you guys should read it. It's like the ending to this chapter if I'd continued it. You don't really have to read it but I'd love it if you did so GO CHECK IT OUT!**

**So yeah, I'm glad you guys read this thing but now it's really going to take me some time to post since I haven't even _started _chapter 4. But since it's short, it shouldn't take me too long. About two or three days maybe.**

**So _Alpha_ OUT!**

**PS: Yay! Next chapter the kids are going to start investigating!**

**PPS: So seriously, what _were _the strange noises Jack and Kim were hearing and who do you think is watching/stalking them?**


	4. Chapter 3 BONUS

***A/N* **

**Hey! It's Alpha again with my 'Kickin' It' FanFic except this is just a BONUS CHAPTER. Like before there's another A/N at the bottom of the story so please R&R.**

**Anyway, DISCLAIMER, DISCLAIMER! I do _not _(read: do _NOT_) own Disney XD's Kickin' It**

* * *

><p><strong>WARNING: This is just a BONUS chapter, the proper ending to chapter 3. In order to understand it you must read chapter 3 FIRST. If you have already read chapter 3, please feel free to proceed.<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>*Bonus Part* <strong>

* **KIMBERLY CRAWFORD** *

It took forever to get Henry to fall asleep but somehow, Jack and I did it by telling Henry multiple _Superman vs. Batman_ stories. It was a long tedious job, but we made it work. By the time my parents came home Henry was long gone and even Jack and I were drifting off to sleep. My head was resting on his shoulder and his cheek against my head. We were quietly discussing what we thought had been going on tonight.

We came to the conclusion that someone had been here in an attempt to scare us rather than to hurt us but it was still quite unnerving that we didn't know who it was. And that didn't answer the question of the calls. If someone had been calling us from the house, we probably would have heard them speak, right? Did this mean that two people were working against us or...?

Jack and I jumped when we heard the front door slam. We quickly moved away from one another when the lights went on...wait..._what?_

"Mom, dad?" I called blearily, "When did the power turn back on? They've been out for the last couple hours."

My dad sounded surprised, "Kim, didn't we tell you that some guys are working on the power so the lights were going to be out for a bit in the neighbourhood?"

"No?"

"Oh! Sorry dear..." My mom trailed off in surprise as she walked into the living room. She'd just realized that Jack was here. Her face hardened and her voice sounded clipped, "Jack, you're here. Does your mother know where you are?"

Jack and I exchanged a look and he hastily nodded, "Yeah and it's getting late so I must be going. Good to see you Mr. and Mrs. Crawford."

"Well, since it is late let me give you a ride home, Jack." My dad said, picking up his car keys. Jack looked at me and I nodded so he obliged. The two of them went outside and headed for the car with a wave of goodbye. I already knew all the drama Jack's appearance was going to make. It was going to take me _forever_ to convince my mom that Jack and I hadn't been _doing_ anything.

Once they'd pulled out of the driveway, my mom dished me her coldest "Tennessee Winter" glare and asked the most obvious question, "_So_, Jack was here?"

"Yeah! And Kimmy and Jackie almost _kissed_!" I whipped my head around to glare at Henry. I thought the little rat had been asleep, but apparently I was wrong. I swallowed and averted my eyes, trying to look anywhere but at my mother. I knew what was coming next.

"Henry, you're awake?" My mom shook her head in disbelief and turned to glare at me, "So you and Jack almost _kissed_?"

After a thirty minute lecture about having boys over late at night while my parents weren't home, my mom finally let me go to bed saying that if she caught another boy here without her knowledge I'd be grounded for a very, very, very, _very_ long time. I was beyond relieved when she'd finally let me go up for bed, but for some strange reason, I couldn't sleep. I just lay in bed worrying, my paranoia slowly starting to grow again.

I couldn't help but wonder how the vandals knew _exactly_ what was going on in the house when they called if they really _weren't_ inside the house...

* * *

><p><strong>*AN* **

**This is the ending to chapter 3, a small bonus chapy. I was going to put it on as the end for chapter 3 but it seemed fine the way I ended it so I made it its own little chapter. Hope you enjoyed it. Please comment on one or both chapters. **

**Sincerely yours, Alpha.**

**PS: How did the vandals know exactly what was going on when they called?**


	5. Chapter 4

***A/N* **

**Hey! It's Alpha again with my 'Kickin' It' FanFic. Like before there's a longer A/N at the bottom of the story so please R&R**

**Thank you all for reading this and bearing with my long A/Ns. It never ceases to amaze me when the number of hits/viewers/comments goes up and in all honesty, it actually makes my day reading all your theories and comments. I hope lots more people will find and enjoy this FanFic as I'm having lots of fun writing it. I'm also sorry for not commenting on anyone else's story yet! I will soon, I promise! **

**Anyway, DISCLAIMER, DISCLAIMER! I do _not _(read: do _NOT_) own Disney XD's Kickin' It**

* * *

><p>* <strong><span>KIMBERLY CRAWFORD<span>** *

"Wow Kim, you look terrible."

I decidedly ignored Jack's mildly slandering comment and continued the painful trek to my locker, my body whining in discontent at every step. I was so tired, exhausted really.

Due to last night's scary encounter, I'd gotten a questionable amount of sleep. I had slept for about two hours, spending the rest of the night too paranoid to sleep. I was afraid to sleep knowing that the vandals could sneak into my room at anytime completely undetected, and my evening with Jack had also proved that the vandals were watching us somehow. Knowing that someone was watching me as I slept was pretty unnerving. I was afraid to go to the bathroom this morning, worrying that someone was watching me shower. Heck, I was even iffy about changing in my own bedroom, scared that some pervert was watching me undress.

The whole "vandals" thing had really put me on edge and was making me suspicious of everything and everyone. Currently, it looked like the only people I could trust were the Wasabi Warriors (not even my own parents!) but quite frankly, I was okay with that.

"Kim?"

"What, Jack?" I snapped in mild irritation. My fatigue was really getting to me and I was grumpiest when I was tired (and also when my phone was turned off but that was a _whole_ other thing).

Jack raised his non-Honey Bun wielding hand in truce. "Whoa there, Kim. Peace, not war! I'm not trying to start a fight or anything."

I sighed. "Sorry, I'm just a little tired. I didn't get any sleep at all last night."

"Yeah, I can tell." Jack examined my face, "You look a lot worse than you did the last time we had sugar-induced hangovers."

Now, I was not going to reiterate the whole story, but I would say this. Jack baked when he was bored and you did not go on a sugar high with Jack nor did you see who could eat the most brownies (or cupcakes…or cookies…or candies…or _Splenda_ packets…or...) and expect yourself _not_ to feel really sick the next day. Also, could not be surprised if you spent the whole night vibrating and twitching. It was _completely_ normal. But if you did go ahead and do this, remember, "celebrate life, and consume sugar responsibly".

I groaned as I swung my locker open. "Ugh, don't remind me. At least I got two hours of sleep last night instead of zero."

I watched as Jack's playful demeanour shifted into worry. "Kim, you got only two hours of sleep last night?"

I nodded and he looked at me seriously, "Kim, maybe you should have stayed home today or maybe you should go to the nurse's office to lie down."

"But I'm not sick!" I protested in annoyance, "I'm not going to skip out on school if I'm not sick! I'm not even allowed to anyway!"

Jack gave me one last look before giving in. "Fine, but here," Jack handed me his Honey Bun and I looked at him questioningly. Jack shrugged, "I got it at _Honey Buns_ this morning. It's my breakfast and all but you look like you need the sugar a heck of a lot more than I do."

I raised an eyebrow at Jack, "Are you sure? This is your breakfast and you know that—"

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day?" Jack finished with a roll of his eyes, "Yeah, I think I've heard that cliché a couple hundred times from my mom."

I tried to protest but Jack silenced me. "Look, just eat it. It should boost your blood sugar or something temporarily. But if you start losing it, I'm taking you to the nurse regardless of your feelings."

"Fine." I said, biting into the Honey Bun. It was cinnamon flavoured. "Thank you. So, did you get in trouble last night for going in late? I got in a heck of a lot of trouble just for having you over."

Jack winced, "Yeah, when I got in my mom yelled at me for an hour over coming home after my school-night curfew and also over sneaking out when I'm grounded."

My jaw dropped. "Oh my _God_, Jack! I'm _so_ sorry! I totally forgot that you were grounded! If I had remembered I never would have called you!"

Jack shrugged. "It's okay. I mean, sure I have no internet privileges for the next two weeks and my iPhone is currently being replaced with this lame flip phone so I can't secretly log onto the web, but it was _my_ choice to break the rules."

"Well, are you allowed to come to the dojo? Bobby Wasabi's renovation should be finished today so we can finally get our spar on." I said.

Jack smiled. "Well, at first I wasn't allowed to go but thankfully my grandfather managed to convince my mom to let me go to the dojo as long as I come straight home after and don't make a mall detour or whatever."

"Well, I still feel really bad about this and—"

"Whoa Kim! What happened to your _eyes_?" Seemed like Jerry had finally arrived for school today.

"Shut up, Jerry!" I whirled around and examined my face in my locker mirror. I prodded my eyes as I asked no one in particular, "Do I really look that bad?"

Jerry said "yes" at the same time as Jack said "not really". I groaned. Having seriously puffy eyes was going to damage my rep _especially_ since they were _this_ noticeable. As Pep Squad captain I had to look alert at _all_ times and currently I looked _so_ dead. In a panic I reached into my locker and switched my Honey Bun for my giant aviator sunglasses (the ones I saved specially for these kinds of occasions). I slid the aviators on, "Does this look better?"

"No, not really. Those sunglasses can't hide the puffiness of your sleep deprived eyes." I turned around to glare at Milton, who'd just rounded the corner with Eddie in tow. I was tempted to strangle that kid.

"Thanks for adding insult to injury." I snarled, glowering at Milton. Obviously my temporarily diffused grumpiness was back at full force.

"Wow, looks like someone needs a _Happy Meal_." Eddie muttered.

I glared at Milton and Eddie. It took all my restraint not to jump those two and go all "savage squirrel" on them. You did _not_ anger Kim Crawford when she only had two hours of sleep, boys. You just didn't.

Jack looked between me and the boys before hastily cutting in, noticing the fact that I was silently wishing that looks could kill. "You guys, Kim didn't get much sleep last night because of something that happened yesterday so I'd advise you all to tread cautiously."

Jerry folded his arms, "Well what happened?"

Jack and I launched into full detail about how our night had went down, from the moment that lights went out all the way to the minute my parents came home. Of course we had to simplify the story a little so Jerry and Eddie could keep up with it. To prove his loyalty, Jack kept his word and did not mention the fact that I'd practically been drowning in my own tears when I'd thought Henry had been missing. Out of thankfulness, I gave him a grateful nod which he evenly returned.

"No wonder you're so tired." Eddie nodded in understanding, "I wouldn't be able to sleep either if I knew that someone was watching me."

"Eddie, someone probably was!" Milton exclaimed, "Just because it became more obvious that someone was keeping tabs on Jack and Kim does not mean that someone wasn't watching our every move too! Heck, they could be watching us right now!"

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa_, are you saying that one person is watching _all_ of us at _once_?" Even Jerry, the least intelligent of us all (sorry!), understood that that seemed a little farfetched. One person could not have ransacked our rooms and trashed the dojo (I mean, there was just _so_ much damage). Nor could one person have been calling me and walking around my house at the same time without me or Jack hearing them.

"Well," Jack paused, "No. There has to be at least _two_ people trying to freak us out because everything they've done seems like a little too much for one person to handle."

"And we need to find out just who those two—or more—people are." I added with a yawn. Jack shot me a look as I yawned and I shrugged back. Note to Self: Stifle all yawns when near Jack until further notice.

Milton gave us a grim smile, "Well, at least we can start investigating now since I have the compiled list of everyone who hates us."

I nodded in approval, "Okay, so what's the sitch?"

"Slow down, Possible." Milton said as he reached into his backpack for the lists he'd made, "Let me get the lists first. They are a little long but there's mostly Jerry and Eddie to blame for that..."

And Milton wasn't kidding. There had to be at the very _least_ thirty-five different names and reasons for why each person hated us. Naturally at the top were our obvious choices: Truman, Arthur, the Black Dragons (the main ones each by name), Rue, Carson, Ricky Weaver, that _Smooth_ kid, etcetera, etcetera. But as the list went on, there were a couple other people who I never even _knew_ sported animosity towards us. Most of the people towards the end of the list just wanted to tear one or two of the guys to pieces rather than all of us as a whole.

"Aw, dang it! All these cheerleaders hate me for making moves on them?" Eddie asked incredulously. Apparently he still believed that he had a future as a "playa" regardless of all the times the rest of us Warriors had discouraged his "dream".

"Dude, that's nothing! The Avan twins are still out to get me for two timing with them! I thought they were the same girl for two months!" Jerry exclaimed.

"And Heather Clark still hates me for throwing up on her?" Jack groaned, "I apologized to her a thousand times and even offered to buy her new shoes!"

With that comment, irritation flashed through me (at this point I hoped that it was because I was grumpy...), "Okay guys, this is _not_ the time to lament all the girls who hate you! We are _trying_ to figure out who's threatening us here! Let's split up the list. We can cover more people that way."

Milton nodded, "Yeah, Kim's right. We don't have time to moan about all the people who'd love to drive a stake through our small, lonely, barely beating—"

"_Not_ helping, Milton."

"Sorry."

It took a while (mostly since Jerry and Eddie stopped every three seconds to complain about which girl hated them) but we were finally able to evenly split up the list to each of our own advantages. It was perfect timing too because just as we'd finished writing down who was, well, _technically_ stalking who, the warning bell rang for first period.

I grinned, struggling to hide my yawn from Jack who was pretty much dead set on sending me to the nurse, "Okay, so is _Operation: Vandals_ a go?"

Jack nodded, "Yup, _Operation: Vandals_ is on the go. Wasabi?"

"Wasabi!" the rest of us Warriors said in affirmation.

We all immediately split up to retrieve our binders and textbooks from our lockers. I examined my face in my locker mirror again. I couldn't see what Milton was talking about. My sunglasses covered my eyes just fine. I sighed and slammed my locker shut. Just as I was heading to class, Honey Bun in hand, Jack stopped me, "Kim?"

"Yeah?"

"If you fall asleep during class today, you are _so_ going to the nurse."

* * *

><p>Staying awake in class was easier said than done.<p>

Thrice I'd nearly lost consciousness and thrice I had to force my heavy eyelids back open and refocus them on the board. It probably would have been a lot easier to stay awake if my Algebra teacher hadn't been teaching us something we'd learned in sixth grade, my English teacher hadn't been reading us this super long passage, and my Biology teacher hadn't been making us watch some long, boring movie on cell reproduction.

Algebra had always bored me, but never in my life had I ever found English class so boring until today. My English teacher was reading us this unbelievably boring passage from Homer's (and _not_ Homer Simpson's) _Iliad_ or something since teens today were only exposed to "corrupt novels such as _Twilight_ as opposed to rich classics". I actually liked Homer's _Odyssey,_ but this thing was ridiculous. Not even Jack's mockery (yes, I was surprised that he was in Honors English too, but Jack was actually an _excellent_ writer) of our English teacher's dramatic reading of the passage could save it for me.

Now, don't even get me started on Biology. It was like the narrator's voice in the movie was _made_ for sleeping CDs. Seriously, his voice was so soothing that I would actually buy it if would help me catch some Zs while this whole "vandals" thing was going on.

Anyway, I was very disoriented and basically unaware of the world in fourth period (what class had I been in again?) and by the time lunch had rolled around, I was pretty much one snore away from sleepwalking…or becoming an actual zombie…your choice.

Jack walked out of his on-level Algebra class, took one look at me and shook his head. "Kim, you are barely awake. You are going to the nurse, _right now_."

"But I don't _wanna_." Wow, did I sound whiny or what? "Jack, I'm a big girl. I think I can make my own decisions here. I've been a big girl ever since I was out of diapers."

"Yeah and how long have you been out of diapers again?" I smacked him and Jack made a face at me, "_Ow!_ Regardless of your age, you can go back to making your own decisions again when you are lucid."

"Wow, Jack. Never knew you knew what lucid meant..." As I glared at Jack I had a little "ding" moment; a minor epiphany. It was that awkward moment when you realized just how nice someone's eyes were and I was in the middle of it—with _Jack_. Of all people, did I really need to have this moment with _Jack?_ Ugh! See kids, this is why you don't leave the house so sleep deprived.

But on a side note, his deep brown eyes _were_ absolutely beautiful. They really and truly were. They were this delicious chocolate brown colour that reminded me of really good quality Belgium chocolates. The kind that oozed and dripped in ways that you simply couldn't imagine. The kind you'd have just one taste of and instantly become addicted to. That was the colour of Jack's eyes. I stared into his eyes for a couple seconds and I believe I got lost in them for a little longer than I thought because when my mind refocused, Jack was snapping his fingers in front of my face. "Kim? Kim?"

"Uh, y-y-yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

Due to my sleep deprivation, I couldn't help but to semi-coherently reply, "Um...yeah...I'm fine and by the way, you have the most _beautiful_ eyes ever. Can't believe I never noticed that before..."

Jack stared at me, absolutely bewildered and dumbstruck, allowing me to babble on about how his eyes reminded me of chocolate or whatever. When his initial shock faded, Jack latched onto my wrist and started dragging me through the hallway.

"Hey! What are you doing?" I tried to pull away, but Jack had an iron grip on my wrist and I suddenly felt too tired and weak to fight back.

Jack glanced at me. "Taking you to the nurse!"

"Why?"

Jack stopped for a moment, "Because a completely lucid and sane Kim Crawford would _not_ compliment my eyes no matter how awesome they are."

Well, there was the vanity I'd been waiting for.

Jack shoved me into Nurse Stevens' office and I grimaced in minor disgust. The place reeked of the sick and ill. Although I was healthy now, I was pretty sure that I was going to get sick just from being in here.

Nurse Stevens looked up from the open files on her desk, a look of surprise crossing her face when she saw the two of us stumble in. Jack and I hadn't come into her office _together_ since Jerry had given both of us strep throat last autumn (last time I was going to share a drink with those boys), although we had met up in here a couple times since then. "Jack, Kim? As happy as I am to see your faces again, why did you stop by? I certainly hope that neither of you are sick. A virus has been going around and I've been sending students home all morning."

Jack yanked my aviators off and Nurse Stevens winced at the sight of my eyes. "Don't worry, Nurse Stevens. Neither of us are sick. I brought Kim in here to sleep since she's so tired. She didn't sleep at all last night."

"Yikes! I can tell by her eyes." Nurse Stevens said, "Kim, go lie down on that cot over there and get some rest. Before I forget, here," Nurse Stevens reached into her desk and retrieved a new, still fully packaged thermometer. "Jack, please take Kim's temperature for me."

"But I'm not sick." I argued weakly.

Nurse Stevens shrugged at me. "Sorry Kim, you know it's regulation."

I sighed and reluctantly trudged to one of the empty cots with Jack behind me. He was still struggling to get the wrapper off the new thermometer. I sat down on the cot, cringing at its off-white sheets and the suspicious stain on the corner. What _was_ that stain?

"Kim, lie down." Jack demanded, finally pulling the wrapper off the thermometer. I rolled my eyes at him but did as I was told.

"Yes, doctor." I said sarcastically. I took the thermometer from him and he raised an eyebrow at me. I examined the thermometer. "I can take my own temperature, thanks."

I slid the thermometer into my mouth and Jack timed out one minute with my phone. When one minute was up, Jack took the thermometer from my mouth and checked the temperature. "Her temperature is ninety-eight point seven degrees Fahrenheit, Nurse Stevens."

"Thank you, Jack." Nurse Stevens called back, "You may throw the thermometer away now."

I watched as Jack strolled to the wastebasket and chucked the thermometer and its wrapper.

"You know," Jack said as he sat down in an empty chair by my cot, "I'm not leaving until you fall asleep—or until the warning bell rings. Whichever comes first."

"But you'll miss lunch." I argued.

Jack scoffed, "I'll miss what? Having _another_ case of food poisoning?"

"No, you have to eat because you missed breakfast since you gave me your Honey Bun. The least you can do is down some of our cruddy cafeteria food and risk being ill for a couple days." I insisted.

Jack and I stared at one another for the longest time before Jack finally gave in to me, just as before. "Fine, I'll go eat. But when I come back, you'd better be sleeping."

"I'm not going to sleep." I muttered defiantly.

* * *

><p>And my resolve had lasted what? Not even three minutes after had Jack left?<p>

No sooner than Jack had left did I fall asleep. I didn't even know what had happened. Like, the minute I'd laid down in the cot, my body had let out a gracious sigh of relief and that was when my exhaustion really hit me. All those sleepless hours lying awake in my bed had finally caught up to me and I was drowning in a sea of lethargy. Keeping my eyes open while conversing with Jack just made me more exhausted and actually opening my mouth to speak swiped even more energy away. Even though I personally did not want to fall asleep, my body just wouldn't—it _couldn't_—take "no" for an answer.

I had a dreamless nap, the pleasant kind where the darkness was rather soothing as opposed to frightening. If I had dreamed I surely don't remember it and I was perfectly okay with that. The dream was probably centered around the vandals anyway and they were the very reason I couldn't sleep in the first place.

I woke up feeling refreshed and revitalized, ready to take on whatever the vandals would throw at me next. I yawned and blinked a couple times, propping myself up onto my elbows. I picked up my phone to check the time. Oh crud! It was halfway through fifth period. I was probably going to have to go see my History teacher afterschool for all the work I missed. Ugh! I had a Seaford News Team meeting afterschool too. Maybe I should have just stayed home after all.

I looked to where Jack had been sitting, half-expecting him to be there with a triumphant smile on his face, but he wasn't. In his place sat a lunch tray with a bottle of water and a bowl of surprisingly unspoiled fruit (you'd be surprised too if you'd seen our cafeteria food). There was a note pinned underneath the bowl.

"Your boyfriend brought it for you."

I rolled my eyes. Only one person in this whole entire school had that squeaky, whiny voice and he was one of the people I had been told to keep tabs on. "Truman, Jack and I are _not_—"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever..." Truman repositioned himself and kicked his feet up onto his own cot. He tucked his arms behind his head and let out an overexaggerated sigh.

I gazed at him suspiciously, picking up the note Jack had left for me. I unfolded the paper and read it. The note said, in Jack's neat scrawl: _Hey! I came back with some fruit for you and you were sleeping. Can I get an "I told you so"? Truman's in here right now and if he's still around when you're up, how about a little interrogation time? – Jack _

Although I rolled my eyes at Jack's note he was right. No, not about the whole "I told you so" thing, but about Truman. As long as Truman and I were both here, maybe I could get something out of him. Perhaps a confession or a giveaway clue? I shot a glance at Truman who seemed pretty preoccupied with maintaining his "good life" facade. _Operation: Truth-man_ was officially on the go.

"Truman?" I asked as innocently as I could muster, picking up a piece of fruit, "What are you doing here and where is Nurse Stevens?"

"Some kid came in with the bug that's been going around so Stevens left to go deal with the puker in the bathroom." Truman turned to me, "And I'm skipping PE class because it sucks."

"You hate PE?"

"Yes, but that's not why I'm skipping. I'm skipping because I'm waiting for a call from...my dad." I gave Truman an inquiring look and Truman let out a loud sigh as if it actually pained him to explain why he was waiting for his father's supposed call. "Someone took some stuff from my dad's office a couple nights ago and he's freaking out because what they took is very expensive. He has me and my brothers on standby just in case he finds a lead."

I tried to smother my smile as excitement rushed through me, the adrenaline perking me up. Truman's father was missing some items from his office? Perhaps the _same_ items that were being used to track us Warriors? I took a couple deep breaths to calm myself down; to relieve the giddiness that was building up inside me. I had to play it cool and lay low. I cleared my throat and tried to ask nonchalantly, "So, what is your dad missing?"

Truman opened his mouth to answer but immediately shut it, silenced by his phone's low ring. I waited patiently as he read his text but when he looked up again, the mood in the room had changed drastically. Truman glared at me, his eyes flashing. I had this gut feeling that something in that text had changed Truman's mood and not for the better. I gulped as Truman's eyes narrowed slowly, suspicion instantly filling them. In an instant I knew I'd been caught. Truman had seen right through my cool, collected facade meaning that _Operation: Truth-man_ was going to blow up in my face in approximately three…two…one...

"Wait a minute, Kim." Truman said coldly, "Why so talky today? You usually can't stand being in the same room as me. What gives?"

"N-n-nothing," I stuttered. _Way to be suspicious, Kim!_

"Really?" Truman hissed, sitting up abruptly, "If I didn't know any better I'd think that you were interrogating me. I heard about your little dojo and bedrooms being ransacked and for the record, if you think _I_ had something to do with it. You. Are. _Wrong_."

Truman left his cot and stormed out of the office leaving me behind in dumbfounded bewilderment. I was shocked at how quickly Truman had caught on to my little game, wondering if it had anything to do with the text he'd received. I hadn't even said a word about the dojo, much less me and the boys' _bedrooms_, which really made me wonder how much Truman actually _knew_ about the vandalism.

All I knew for sure was that in the course of one minute I'd learned only two new things. One: Truman's father, head of security at Bayview Mall, was missing something important (and expensive); something that _may_ have been stolen. And two: Truman apparently had _nothing_ to do with the vandals. Absolutely _nothing_.

* * *

><p><strong>*AN***

**Okay, so you guys know how I said that this chapter would be more _mystery_ than _horror_? Yeah, well it turned out to be a lot more Kim/Jack than anything. I totally did not mean for that to happen AT ALL but I guess it just sort of happened (_if it's meant to be..._). But looking back on my notes for this chapter, I guess I should have seen it coming. Notice how I changed the 'Maybe some Jack/Kim' in my summary to 'Some Jack/Kim'? As long as I'm subconsciously writing some Jack/Kim scenes I might as well change it. Also, you know how I said this chapter will be short? Well, haha it turned out to be my _longest_ chapter ever. **

**So, did you guys like my _Kim Possible _reference? Did you actually notice it the first time you read it or were you completely oblivious until Milton made a little mention to it or did you not notice at all until I mentioned it here? I actually referenced a lot of Pop Culture stuff (Happy Meals, Twilight, Homer Simpson) in this chapter and added quite a bit of funny since last chapter was a little freaky (I was actually scaring myself a bit while I wrote it at, like, one AM). I hope you guys were humoured because I was. I can't help but to smile every time I read Eddie and Jerry's lines about all the girls who hate them. Not sure if I'm being biased or anything but I find those lines to be quite amusing.**

**Any who, what do you think it would be like going on a sugar high with Jack and Kim? I don't really get hyper off sugar (nor do I get brain freezes) so I don't really know what exactly it would be like but I believe it would be kind of fun and just a little (read: VERY) crazy. Ha, this just makes me want to write a one or two-shot about Jack and Kim's sugar high ending when they arrive at school the next day. I would but I still need to write chapter 5 and plan chapter 6. I also have some Kickin' It stories (among others) in the works. Oh well, maybe later.**

**So I'm off to work on chapter 5 which features Kim Crawford and her polka-dotted bra and Jack No-Last-Name and his very plaid boxers (and if you have a mind anything like mine, it's not at _ALL_ what you're thinking! NOT AT ALL!).**

**KK, Alpha OUT!**

**PS: Do you guys think Truman is telling the truth? What do you think is missing from Truman's father's office? And who do you think texted Truman and what did they say?**

**PPS: Remember kids, _'celebrate life, consume sugar responsibly._'**


	6. Chapter 5

*** A/N * **

**Hey! It's Alpha again with my 'Kickin' It' FanFic. Like before there's a longer A/N at the bottom of the story so please R&R**

**Yay! Here's the official chapter 5! Can I get a whoop whoop? And thanks for the 50+ reviews. I'd just like to say, I love you all!**

**Anyway, DISCLAIMER, DISCLAIMER! I do _not _(read: do _NOT_) own Disney XD's Kickin' It (nor do I own Kim and Jack's choice of undergarments...)**

* * *

><p>* <strong><span>KIMBERLY CRAWFORD<span>** *

_"Kim? Kim? _Kim?_"_

_"Why won't she wake up?"_

_"D'ya think she's dead?"_

_"Shut up, Jerry! Kim is _not_ dead!"_

_"How d'ya know? You're no doctor!"_

_"Well—"_

_"SHUT UP!"_

_"...Kim...Kim...Kim...Kimmy...wake up..."_

I awoke with a start, my heart racing wildly. What was going on? What had happened? Did I fall asleep again? I propped myself up onto my elbows and slowly sat up, yawning all the while. I hadn't even realized that I'd fallen asleep again. I guess I was more tired than I'd originally thought. I tried to remember what I'd been doing before I'd fallen asleep, but the memory wouldn't come clearly to me.

Following me and Truman's little confrontation, ending in his abrupt departure, I believe I'd been pondering Truman's sudden change in manner. Something was up; I was beyond certain of it. Truman had seemed fine, almost _friendly_, prior to that odd text he'd received. After that text Truman had become cold and hostile, accusing me of interrogating him (which I was, but that was _so_ not the point). Truman had denied any association with the vandals whatsoever, but I was still a little wary of his statement.

_Was_ Truman as innocent as he said he was? Truman had sounded pretty sincere, vicious, but sincere. Besides, if Truman really was involved with the "vandals" thing, wouldn't he have been a lot more obvious about it? Thinking back, while he'd been blackmailing Eddie, Truman hadn't even bothered to make himself seem inconspicuous. He'd immediately appeared at the scene of the prank not even two seconds after it'd occurred. If Truman didn't have the skills to be discreet back then, I highly doubt he'd have learned them by now. So as of right now, Truman was innocent until proven—

"Kim?"

I shook myself out of my thoughts and looked up. The Wasabi boys were all standing around my cot, looking at me intently. Their concentrated stares were sort of freaking me out and were making me feel a little self-conscious. I quickly felt around my mouth for drool and brushed myself down, straightening my top which had twisted in my sleep. There was nothing really wrong with my hair or clothes and I hadn't been drooling so why were the guys staring at me? Hadn't they seen someone sleep before? Heck, what were they even _doing_ here anyway?

"Guys?"

"Hey Kim," Milton smiled down at me, the first to break from his little "trance". "Thank goodness, you're up."

"Yeah, rise and shine _Sleeping Beauty_. Your one hundred year curse has been lifted." Jack teased lightly. His voice had a playful lilt to it.

I grinned, rubbing sleep out of my eyes, and teased Jack a _little_ cockily, "Ha, you didn't, by any chance, _kiss_ me did you? And did you just indirectly call me _beautiful_, Jack?"

I smiled in triumph as Jack coloured slightly; just the reaction I was looking for. He was always accusing me of crushing on him, but here he was now, flamingo pink due to my fairly _innocent _question.

The guys looked at Jack expectantly, waiting for his answer, and I decided to egg him on, also wanting to hear Jack's answer. "Well, aren't you going to answer me? Did you just call me _beautiful_, Jackie?"

"N-n-no." Oh my _God_. Did Jack _actually_ get _redder_ and did he just _stutter_? Did ever so confident Jack just _stutter_? I tried to hide my smile, but if you knew anything about me, you knew my poker-face was a poker-_don't_. He glared at me and I raised a brow. _Yikes!_ Jack's cockiness was _really_ rubbing off on me. Jack sighed and rolled his eyes, the eye-roll seemingly returning his endless self-confidence to him. "Can't a guy make a reference to a Disney classic _without_ being accused of hitting on a girl?"

I shook my head, "Well, if your name is Eddie, Jerry or Jack then, uh, _no_?"

"Hardy, har, har. Very funny, Kim. Hilarious, really." Eddie rolled his eyes and I shrugged at him, "Whatever. So what time is it? Is it sixth or seventh period?"

The guys exchanged a glance before Milton turned back to me in a tentative manner. "Kim," he said, "It's neither sixth nor seventh period next. School is _over_. You slept through the whole afternoon."

"_What?_"I blinked a couple times, struggling to take in the new information to my sleep-muddled mind. So, I'd slept through the whole afternoon. I had _slept_ through the _whole_ afternoon? I didn't even do that when I was at home sick with the latest virus Henry had brought home from kindergarten (that place was a cesspit of _disease_). No matter how desperately I wanted to sleep on those days, no matter how deathly ill I was, I just couldn't do it. Sleeping during the day just wasn't my thing (it was just so _weird _to me_)_.

But here I was. I was in perfectly good health and I'd fallen asleep during the day, missing the remainder of my classes. Ugh! Now I probably had a whole ton of homework from all my advanced classes! I absolutely hated my life right now! Curse you vandals for making me tired and curse you Jack for making me lie down!

Jerry snapped his fingers in front of my nose. "Yo Kim, you alright?"

I whirled around and snapped at Jerry, my slight Southern accent becoming much more prominent as my voice raised, "_No!_ I'm _not_ okay, Jerry! I just spent the whole afternoon sleeping and I missed _all_ my classes! Now I probably have a whole ton of homework and if I don't hurry I won't be able to all my assignments from my teachers because they are _all_ rushing home to mark stuff and—" I gasped, "Oh no! I'm _so_ late for that News Staff meeting! Margaret's _so_ going to kill me, and considering the fact that she's so mentally unstable, that's totally possible!"

"_Kim!_"Jack placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Okay, first of all _chill_. Second of all, we have all your homework right here. It's in your bag. Milton and I got your homework from all your classes and—"

"Wait a minute," I cut in and glared at the boys, "You guys went into my _locker_ for my backpack? How do you guys know my combination anyway? Do _not_ tell me that Grace gave it to you."

Jack ignored my question, "_And_ we sort of told Margaret that you were sick and she said you didn't have to attend the meeting. She said _Get Well Soon_."

"_Or_ Margaret realized I wasn't in Spanish, asked you where I was, you said I was in the nurse's office, she assumed I was sick, and you just went along with it." I suggested. Everyone knew that Jack didn't straight up _lie_ very often. He sort of lied, I don't know, _indirectly_. Usually what would happen is that he'd say a couple things and allow you to make your own inference, not bothering to correct you if you were wrong. That was what happened with the whole "I-Got-You-Bobby-Wasabi-For-Your-Birthday" thing last year at Rudy's birthday party.

"Yeah, it went more like that." Eddie said and Jack smacked him, "_Ow!_"

Jack turned back to me, "So are you ready to go home?"

"Home?" I swung my legs over the side of my cot. "No way! I'm not going home to rest. Yeah, I know that's what you want me to do, Jack. But I'm fine, really. I'm going to the dojo with you guys because I want to see the renovation too."

I grabbed onto Jack and Jerry to help myself up. I almost faceplanted as a slight wave of vertigo washed through me, but I straightened up quickly. I released my grasp on the boys' shoulders once I was sure I wasn't about to topple over like a _Jenga_ tower. "Okay, let's go."

* * *

><p>Before we went to the dojo we made a minor detour (one none of us were telling Jack's mom about) to <em>Circus Burger<em> for milkshakes. We usually hit up _Falafel Phil's_ for milkshakes but ever since the "goat milk incident", we decided that it would be a lot healthier and more FDA-approved to grab milkshakes from other places until further notice.

"Hey Jack, could you please spare me five cents and—_hey!_" Milton trialed off as he picked up the latest edition of _CELEBstar_ from the magazine rack, "Look who just graced the front cover of _CELEBstar _magazine?"

We all turned to snag a peek at the latest celebrity to score front-page madness in one of the most popular celebrity magazines in America. My jaw dropped in absolute shock. I couldn't believe that of all international celebrities _this_ one had the main headline. No, it was not Amanda Bynes. Nor was it Lindsay Lohan, or Justin Bieber, or any of the cast members on _GLEE_. Nope, it was _Ricky Weaver_. Could I get an _ew?_

"What did the dirtbag do this time?" Jack asked. His voice had a slight edge to it.

Milton flipped through the magazine. "Well, the majority of this thing talks about his latest concert but...oh look here! It says here that, "_a couple days ago, Ricky Weaver was spotted around Bayview Mall in Seaford, California with his bodyguards in tow. No one knows what compelled the young pop sensation to go to this small strip mall. Perhaps he just wanted to go shopping or perhaps he was looking for the young blonde who reportedly left him in a mess after a school show"_."

I sighed and took a sip of my milkshake. "Great. So now I'm the, quote, "_young blonde"_, unquote."

"Hey look," Jack pointed, "Here's a picture with a caption. It says, "_is this the beautiful blonde that left our poor Ricky heartbroken?"_"

I almost did a spit take and not because I apparently left Ricky "heartbroken". No, I could have cared less about that comment. I almost did a spit take at the picture that went along with the caption. Underneath the caption was a picture of Ricky Weaver standing just outside Bobby Wasabi's with a girl. We couldn't see her face since she had her back to us in the picture. All we could see was her long, platinum blonde hair, tank top and short shorts, but that mop of hair looked all too _familiar_. If I didn't know any better, I would have said that girl was—

"Whoa Kim, is that you?" I wanted to smack that milkshake out of Jerry's hand so bad.

"No Jerry, it's not _me!_" I steamed, "That girl is _clearly_ a _platinum_ blonde while my hair is _golden_ blonde. Besides, I'd never be caught _dead_ with that jerk! Not after what he did to me!"

"Well then who is it?" Eddie asked.

After a couple seconds of silence, Jack finally decided to vocalize what we were all probably thinking, or at least, what _I_ was thinking. Jack looked uncomfortable as he spoke, "You guys, I think that girl is _Rue_."

"Rue." Jerry repeated, "As in "Ruthless Rue"? The girl who totally infiltrated our crew and almost tore us apart?"

Jack and I nodded, too distracted to acknowledge the fact that _Jerry_ had just used the word "infiltrated" (seriously, where did he learn _that_ word?). Milton looked panicked, "_Gah_, you guys don't think that those two are working together against us, _do you?_"

"Well, I sure hope not." I said, "Maybe it _is_ just a coincidence that Ricky just so happened to appear in town a day or two before the vandalism. But Rue? Rue's super freaky and she did say she'd get revenge so..."

"Ugh, let's go. You guys are starting to freak me out and Rudy's waiting for us anyway." Eddie took another slurp of his milkshake and headed for the door. Milton put down his magazine and the rest of us rushed forward to catch up to Eddie, not wanting to be left behind.

* * *

><p>Rudy was already standing at the door of the dojo, anxiously awaiting our arrival. He broke into a wide grin when he saw us coming across the courtyard, his face so bright we could have spotted him from a mile away (ha! he put the <em>mile<em> in _smile_!). Rudy rushed towards us, "You guys! You guys made it! I thought none of you were going to show up!"

"Don't worry, Rudy." Jack said reassuringly, "We're just as psyched as you are to see the renovation."

"Okay, okay, okay!" Wow, Rudy was ecstatic. "But before you go in, think about one of your worst experiences ever and then think about your best experience ever."

My worst experience was probably when I knocked out my two front teeth in kindergarten (it was all good, though, since they were baby teeth). My best experience ever would probably be, since the whole "Ricky Weaver" thing didn't exactly turn out well, that time I went to the filming of my favourite TV show and got to meet the main cast. I totally died that day.

Milton said something about getting beat up by the Black Dragons as his worst experience and giving a Black Dragon a nipple-twister as his best. Eddie spoke about getting his appendix removed and beating a Black Dragon while Jerry went on about getting mauled by a wolf who didn't know he was a part of the pack and something else (I tuned him out once the mauling details got a little _too_ gruesome). Jack, on the other hand, remained silent and I wasn't one hundred-percent sure why. I'd ask him about it later.

"Okay, so what does this "experience" thing have to do with the dojo again?" Eddie asked.

Rudy's grin somehow grew even bigger. He was starting to remind me of the Cheshire Cat, "Because the dojo's revamp is about ten times better than your greatest experience and one hundred times better than your worst!"

"Okay then, let's see it!" Jerry exclaimed, shoving Rudy out of the way and opening the door.

We all stopped and stared at the current state of the dojo in absolute shock. The dojo's revamp looked absolutely _amazing_. I swore the dojo was in better shape than it ever was before. Bobby Wasabi didn't joke when it came to renovations. All the maimed dummies were gone and in their place were brand new dummies, expensive good quality ones too. The mats were replaced and the lockers were as well. The new lockers were shiny and lacked the half-removed graffiti of the old ones and each locker had a new shiny lock; locks that actually _worked_. Now, as for Rudy's trophies, they were in a place of their own. All the replicas were shining boldly on their perch and they looked no different from the originals. We couldn't see Rudy's office but I bet it looked every bit as good as the rest of this place.

Bobby Wasabi truly out did himself this time.

"See!" Rudy exclaimed, walking into the dojo. "Doesn't this place look _outstanding?_"

We all bobbed our heads dumbly, still too astonished to move.

Rudy clapped his hands. "Okay team, go get changed if you have your stuff on you. We've missed a couple days of training and I _really_ want to test out some of the awesome, _additional_ stuff Bobby Wasabi got for us."

"Bobby Wasabi bought us _more_ equipment?" Eddie asked incredulously.

Rudy nodded, "Yupperz."

The guys got all giddy and giggly over the fact that we had more martial arts equipment than before. Gossiping about what they thought Bobby Wasabi bought, Eddie, Milton and Jerry all rushed off eagerly to get changed, leaving Jack and I behind.

I sighed as realization hit me. "I guess I'm sitting this session out."

"Why?" Jack asked, "You said you didn't want to go home when I offered to take you home. And aren't you totally stoked to see what else Bobby Wasabi got for us? Don't you want to try them out first before the other guys totally break them and render them useless? _So_ not like you Kim."

"Yeah I'm stoked about the new equipment and all but I've got nothing to change into. I totally forgot to bring extra clothes this morning and my gi was destroyed in the vandalism." I explained.

"Well, if you want, you can borrow some of my stuff." Jack offered, "I have my gi with me as well as a pair of sweats and a tee. I know I'm taller than you so my clothes are going to be a little big, but that's nothing drawstrings can't fix."

"Thanks," I gratefully accepted Jack's offer and took his extra clothes, rushing off to the change rooms. I had to get changed quickly if I wanted to try out the new equipment before Jerry broke them all.

* * *

><p>For some strange reason, as I got changed, I just couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me. I don't know why, but I felt really self-conscious as I switched my skinny jeans for Jack's grey sweats. I just had this eerie feeling that someone was watching me and it was making my hair stand on end. I mean, at first I just thought that it was me being paranoid about being creeped on due to what had happened last night, but after a while, I was almost certain I was being watched.<p>

I put down Jack's shirt and slowly stood up, glancing around the room anxiously. From what I could tell, no one aside from me was in the change room meaning that something else was lurking around. I eyed the shelves and lockers that lined the room. Something _could_ be in or on them.

I stood up on a bench and felt across the shelves. There was nothing there. I turned around and looked back at the lockers. I'd never used these lockers, much less opened them, so anything could have been hidden inside.

I hopped off the bench and slowly walked towards the lockers. I stood in front of them for a moment, my paranoia increasing. I took a deep breath and...

_Bang!_

_Bang!_

_Bang!_

I began throwing the lockers open, searching each one for surveillance cameras or whatever else was making my hair stand on end. I felt like I was playing Minesweeper, except this time, I was actually looking for the figurative bomb. But much to my disappointment, each locker was clear until—_bingo_.

Locker B3, one down, three across, possessed the first bomb. With my anxiety rising, I slowly took the camera out since I didn't want it damaged or anything, and examined it. The video camera looked a lot more like a webcam with little speakers and it seemed to be wire-free meaning it was either wirelessly transmitting images and sounds or a total fraud. I placed the webcam down and continued searching lockers, panicking all the while.

My heart filled with dread as a couple more vid-cams popped up. This meant that someone had _actually_ been watching me change. What kind of pervert would do that? Like, invasion of privacy much? Rage filled me. I was _so_ going to sue Pervy McPerverton for watching me—

My heart stopped as realization dawned on me. I felt nauseous.

Ugh, the vandals had set them up. Obviously they were the ones who did and they did it when they first vandalised the dojo. Five bucks that they'd also laced the rest of the dojo and perhaps even our houses when they broke in. My head spun. How could I have been so stupid? How could I not have suspected anything? It was _so_ obvious that they were watching us! How could I have—?

"_Kim?_" My head swivelled around. Jack was banging on the change room door. "_Kim, we can hear you banging the lockers open and freaking out! What's wrong? What's going on?_"

"Come in now!" I snapped and Jack immediately opened the door. He glanced around the room before his eyes finally settled on me, a light blush creeping across his face. It took me a couple seconds to figure out why though.

I realized that I wasn't exactly wearing a top. Just my bra—a polka-dotted one. I blushed ferociously. Jack's appearance didn't exactly help either as he too was only half-dressed. Jack was wearing his t-shirt but not his jeans so I could see his very plaid boxers (Hey Grace, you owe me five bucks. Told you Jack wears a _lot_ of plaid!).

_Awkward..._

We stared at one another, both redder than a fire truck and embarrassed out of our minds. I silently wished that I was dead right now and Jack looked like he felt the same way. I hastily pulled a shirt (I could really care less whether it was mine or not) to my chest and tried to ignore the fact that I could see his boxers. I cleared my throat, "Okay, I just made a discovery."

Jack gave me a sly smile, "Don't tell me that you just realized that it's your time of the month..."

I scowled at him, my face heating up even more. Obviously his discomfort had faded when I'd covered my chest. If only he'd put on pants! I really wanted to beat the crud out of that boy, "_Jack!_ Ugh, that's _not_ funny." I shoved one of the vid-cams in his face. "_This_ is what I'm talking about! I just found a bunch of Perv-a-tron 5000s hiding out in the lockers."

Jack instantly became serious and he took the vid-cam from me. His brow furrowed as he examined the vid-cam. "Wait, are you saying that someone planted these in here?"

I nodded. "Yes, and there are probably some in the boys' change room, all over the dojo and even some in our houses."

Jack's eyes widened. "The _vandals_..." he breathed, "That was probably how they found out Bobby Wasabi was renovating and that was also how they saw what was going on last night. They really _were_ keeping tabs on us."

"Exactly." I affirmed.

Jack placed the vid-cam down and moved for the door. "I'm going to check the guys' room for these and we should ask Rudy about them. Maybe he knows a thing or two about these things."

I looked at him sceptically but Jack shrugged at me, "You never know..."

I sighed and nodded, "Okay."

I watched Jack leave, the door slamming behind him. When he was gone, I sunk onto the bench, suddenly feeling exhausted all over again. I felt like lying down, closing my eyes and sleeping forever.

Today surely was a day of discoveries. I learned that Ricky Weaver arrived in town a couple days ago and has, coincidentally, come in contact with Rue. I learned that someone was actually watching us Warriors with Perv-a-tron 5000s—uh, I mean, _video cameras_. And I also learned that—oh crud! I facepalmed. I couldn't believe that I'd actually forgotten to tell the guys about my strange encounter with Truman. I sighed. I'd have to tell them ASAP since these vid-cams were probably what Truman's dad was reportedly missing.

I sighed and leaned against the wall. There were just so many discoveries and I had this gut feeling that we were going to uncover more in the next few hours.

* * *

><p><strong>* AN * **

**All hail for totally weird chapters! Okay, so in my personal opinion, this chapter is actually really weird but it just raised a whole ton of new questions. Was Ricky Weaver actually with Rue? Why was he outside Bobby Wasabi's anyway? What's Jack's best/worst experience?**

**Haha, and the Jack/Kim-ness in this chapter was seriously effed up. The whole Sleeping Beauty-thing and getting to see one another half-dressed? Kim and Grace's little 'bet.' Absolutely lovely. I was drinking a Slurpee when I wrote some of this, I have _Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.)_ by Katy Perry stuck in my head and I'm naturally effed up in the mind _so_...**

**Okay, but let's get serious. Jack and Kim (finally) discovered that someone was watching them with video cameras. The big question is, who? Kim believes that the video cameras were what was stolen from Truman's dad's office but are they really? These kids should really check their houses for vid-cams. Ricky Weaver's also in town and he was spotted with a blonde fan, perhaps Rue? Looks like some investigating needs to be done...**

**Anywho, Jack and Kim share their discovery with the other guys and locker notes should return next chapter. And aren't you guys happy I included Rudy in this chapter? He'll also be in the next one. As you may, or may not, have noticed, I like to utilize all the characters as much as possible despite the fact that Jack and Kim are the leads in this story. I don't know. I don't really like ignoring the other characters in my stories and try to involve them to the best of my ability.**

**And just so y'all know, I have no idea whether or not these kids live in California or not. I just assume so since that news reporter guy in _Wax On, Wax Off _was from Zeke&Luther and those two live in Gilroy, California (apparently).**

**Okay so, au revoir, _ALPHA_**

**PS: So, like most of you guys know, bballgirl22 wrote a oneshot involving Rue and if you haven't read it, you totally should. I believe it's chapter 7 from her Fireworks story. Not purposely trying to advertise but it might help some of you guys understand what exactly Rue sort of did. Not exactly but close enough.**

**PPS: Not now, but there _will_ be a new Kickin' It FanFic coming up from this account and it's not by me but by BETA. I'll let you guys know, or you'll realize it on your own, when it's up okay?**

**PPPS: Don't go to _Falafel Phil's _until the whole goat-milk thing clears up. Okay?**


	7. Chapter 6

*** A/N ***

**Hey! It's Alpha again with my 'Kickin' It' FanFic. Like before there's a longer A/N at the bottom of the story so please R&R**

**Yay! 70 reviews! You guys make my life and I'm being absolutely serious. I read ALL your reviews and I love them.**

**And to the anon(s?) who asked for some karate action, I would of put some in had it fit what was going on in this chapter (well, _technically_, it could have but whatever!) but don't worry. I'm planning something interesting for Kim...**

**Anyway, DISCLAIMER, DISCLAIMER! I do _not _(read: do _NOT_) own Disney XD's Kickin' It**

* * *

><p>* <strong><span>KIMBERLY CRAWFORD<span> ***

"_Rudy!_"

Jack and I both stormed out of the change rooms, separately, fully clothed with video cameras in hand. I was beyond ready to confront Rudy, demanding to know whether he knew about the vid-cams or not.

Somehow the vandal case had gone from creepy to _creepy_ upon my discovery of the hidden surveillance cameras. The discovery of the vid-cams meant that someone had actually been watching us whether it be at home or at the dojo and I had a feeling that the vandals set them up when they'd broken into both places. The fact that someone probably _had_ been watching me shower was absolutely disgusting and more embarrassing than the fact that Jack had just seen me topless less than half a minute ago. And to make things worse, we didn't even know who the vid-cam images were going to.

Before today, I probably would have said the images were being wirelessly transmitted to Truman, but now I was not so sure. This afternoon's confrontation really had me thinking and questioning all the people around me. Truman was the automatic assumption, but he'd claimed to have no part in the vandalism. Besides, with Ricky Weaver back in town and being seen with a girl who looked a lot like Rue, all my previous suspicions had been turned over to them.

"_RUDY!_" I yelled at the top of my lungs. Rudy turned around. He had been watching Eddie and Jerry spar. The sensei held up a hand and motioned for the two boys to stop fighting as he raised an eyebrow at me. "Kim, what's so important that you had to break the sound barrier—five _times_?"

Milton looked confused. "But she only yelled twi—?"

"Did _you_ plant these Perv-a-tron 5000s in the change rooms?" I demanded, cutting Milton off and shoving the vid-cams into Rudy's face.

Rudy gave me a bewildered looked and Jack shoved me out of the way, giving me a pointed glare. "What Kim _means_ to say is do you know _anything_ about these surveillance cameras? We..._found..._these hiding..._around_."

Jack was careful not to mention the fact that we'd found these in the change rooms. Milton looked alarmed and I mouthed at him that Jack and I would explain later.

Rudy took one of the vid-cams and squinted as he examined them, "No, I don't know anything about these babies. I haven't seen any..." Rudy paused and his eyes widened, "Wait a minute..."

Jack and I exchanged an excited look. Maybe we were in the process of having a break in the case?

"Yeah, actually, I _have_ seen these before." Rudy admitted, plunking the vid-cam back into Jack's hand.

"Really? Where?" Jack asked.

"Was it yesterday?" Rudy asked, thinking back, "Yeah, well, when Bobby Wasabi sent his renovators over, he told me to supervise for a bit so I was here for a while. While the renovators were cleaning up so they could bring in the new stuff, they asked me about these surveillance cameras—like the ones you two are holding. They asked me if I wanted to keep them, but I said no since I didn't know where they'd come from, so they trashed them."

"They just bagged the vid-cams?" Jerry asked.

Rudy nodded, "Yeah, if I'm not mistaken. They should still be there."

I motioned for Eddie and Jerry to go check the trash for the cameras since, you know, they didn't really mind digging through garbage anymore than some dogs did. I'd seen both boys dive into the school trash bin for a tissue that Donna Tobin left lip gloss stains on. Eddie ruffled through the grub while Jerry started pulling stuff out one by one. Jerry pulled out a noodle box from the new Chinese food place that had just opened across the mall. He opened it. "Hey! There are still noodles in here!"

We all groaned in disgust, half-expecting Jerry to eat the leftover noodles (that told you how high our expectations for Jerry were) but surprise, surprise! Jerry just put the box down.

"Did you guys find them?" I asked, impatiently.

Eddie straightened up and shook his head, "No, I don't think that they are in here."

I whirled around to glare at Rudy. "_You_," I hissed and he backed away slowly, raising his hands as if to say truce. "_You!_ Did you leave the dojo at _any_ time after the renovators left? And more specifically, did you leave the dojo _unlocked_?"

Rudy started sweating like he was in a CSI interrogation office. "Um...well...uh...you see Kim...I...uh...went to...you know..._Circus_ _Burger_ because...um...they had this...uh...announcement thingy about...um...giving out free...you know...burgers. A buy one get one free thing...you know?"

I groaned. Good old Rudy. He just couldn't miss out on a free food special and thanks to his "always take the free things in life" motto, someone—presumably the vandals—had taken their vid-cams back. Now some important evidence was missing. Great, _just_ great.

"Anyway," It was Rudy's turn to interrogate me, "What's so important about these video cameras, huh? What's going on? You all look really tired and scared and Milton looks like he just saw a ghost...or peed his pants...or _both!_"

I exchanged a glance with the guys. Could we really tell Rudy what was going on? Could we _really_ trust him to keep the whole "vandals" thing on the down low? Would telling Rudy put him in immediate danger or were the vandals only targeting us?

I opened my mouth to confess but Jack swiftly cut me off, dishing me another look. "Oh, no reason. We just thought that...um...uh..."

"That...um...you could...uh..._recycle_ these things instead." I tried, well aware of how unconvincing I sounded. "Yeah, you can recycle these things instead of...um...throwing them away?"

We waited for a couple seconds, waiting to see if Rudy was gullible enough to buy our poorly executed lie. And guess what? He was—not that that was surprising. Rudy bought our whole, poorly put together act. "Wow, you guys are right. I should have recycled. Anyway, let's get sparring shall we? Then I'll show you guys the super-mega-foxy-awesome-hot stuff that Bobby got for us."

Jack and I placed the vid-cams on the bench so we could keep an eye on them since anyone could sneak in and snatch them up from the change rooms without us even knowing.

* * *

><p>It was late when I'd finally left the dojo. Both Jack and Milton had offered me a ride home, but I had declined. I wanted to stay at the dojo to train a little bit longer and to think about everything that had gone on today.<p>

After practice, Jack and I had explained to Milton, Jerry and Eddie what the deal with the vid-cams were. They got all panicky when we'd explained that we'd found these cameras in the change rooms and their anxiety worsened when we'd also explained that we had a hunch that a couple of these things were probably hidden in our houses. Then, it was time for me to reveal what I had learned from Truman to the boys before they could start pointing fingers again.

They were every bit as confused by Truman's so-called _admission_ as I was. I'd explained that Truman wasn't exactly all that discreet and he'd been quite sincere about the whole ordeal. Then, I'd told the boys about how drastically Truman's demeanour had changed after he'd received his text. Jack suggested he'd received a warning from the vandals and I instantly agreed. That was the only explanation for Truman's weird change, _right_?

Milton then offered to get one of his nerd friends to see if he could find out what network the vid-cams were linked to and Jack and I wholeheartedly obliged. I mean, what was better than nerd power? Milton then asked if Jack and I had ever bothered phoning the mysterious number that kept on calling me last night. I facepalmed and was about to say no when Jack cut me off and said yes.

He explained that when he'd asked to borrow my phone to head for the bathroom since Henry still had his on the "Night of the Mysterious Thumping", he'd tried calling the number a couple times. But bizarrely enough, each time he'd called, he'd reached either an inactivated voicemail or a nonexistent number. This struck me as odd since the number couldn't possibly be both valid and invalid so I had voiced my opinion to no avail. Jack just shrugged back saying that he was every bit as confused as I was.

"Ugh!" I groaned in frustration as I folded Jack's clothes. I was going to have to wash them tonight and return them to him tomorrow. This "vandals" thing was so frustrating and nothing was even making sense anymore. And thanks to this I had, like, over three hours of homework to get through. Just my luck! When was I even going to get the chance to search my own home for vid-cams?

I took a swig from my water bottle and powered up my phone as I headed for the door. I had around twenty different text messages and the majority of them were from none other than Grace. She was freaking out since I hadn't shown up for any of my afternoon classes and I wasn't answering my phone. I was about to send her text telling her to chill out (totally hypocritical, I know) when my phone starting ringing.

Speaking of the devil...

"Hello?"

"_Kim!_" Grace exclaimed a little melodramatically, "_God_ Kim, why aren't you picking up your phone? I called you a bazillion—"

"Thirteen," I corrected.

"A _bazillion_," she affirmed, "times. I was really starting to get worried. You've been really out of it these past few days. Tell me what's up, Miss Crawford."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. No matter how much I _really_ wanted to tell Grace what was going on, I knew that I couldn't. Heck, we couldn't even tell Rudy about what was going on and he was minimally involved in this. "I'm sorry, Grace, but I can't. Not now anyway..."

I could practically hear Grace gearing up to argue. "Hold on a moment, Kim. I've known you for a _really_ long time and in that time we've shared a _lot_ of things with each other. Remember all the clothes, jewellery, make-up, secrets, crushes—?"

I snorted. "Funny how the only things you've mentioned us "_sharing"_ are positive. If _I_ remember correctly we also "shared" the chicken pox in third grade, we "shared" swine flu two years ago, we "shared" a concussion_ and_ a bloody nose at gymnastics last year, we "shared" the—"

_OUCH!_

"Kim? Kim? Kim, what just happened? Kim?" Grace's frantic calls fell upon deaf ears as my phone clattered to the ground upon impact. So involved with my conversation with Grace, I hadn't been paying attention and I'd walked into some person just as I was leaving the dojo. I blushed, feeling a slightly embarrassed, and bent down to retrieve my phone. "Oh my _God_, I am _so_..."

I trailed off as I looked up at the person I'd walked into. My mind swirled. No. _No_. _No!_ _NO!_ This could _not_ be happening! This could _not_ be _flipping_ happening! Not now! Please, anytime but now!

"Hey Grace, I'll call you back." I pressed the end button as quickly as I could to prevent myself from being on the receiving end of Grace's wrath. I did _not_ need Grace's whining right before I faced the one person on earth I could _not_ bear with.

"Kim?"

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look into Ricky Weaver's eyes. Our eyes locked. When our eyes made contact his lit up happily while mine filled with loathing. I felt like being sick. I gazed at him stonily, but Ricky gave me a small smile. The idiot seemed completely unaware of my disdain. Either that or he was ignoring it.

He let out a sigh of relief. "Oh Kim, it really _is_ you. I've been looking all over for you."

"Yeah? Well, you shouldn't have." I said bluntly. Ricky's face fell and I felt the tiniest sliver of guilt, but I was determined to maintain my nonchalant act. "What do you want, Ricky? Why are you here?"

"Oh Kim," He reached for my hand, but I snatched it away. No _way_ was I going to let Ricky hold my hand as if everything was alright. Everything was _not_ alright. Nothing was right between us. Absolutely _nothing_. I glared at Ricky icily and hissed, "_Don't touch me_."

Ricky looked as if I'd drop-kicked his puppy or something and a wave of guilt overcame me. I suddenly felt really bad for being so mean to Ricky, and unfortunately, guilt was the last emotion I wanted to feel right now. I didn't want to feel bad for upsetting Ricky. He was such a jerk besides, he might have been involved with the vandalism and you couldn't feel bad for a criminal, right?

Regardless, I decided to apologize. I mean, just because he was a jerk didn't mean I had to act like one too. Just as I was about to apologize Ricky began speaking, "Kim, Kimberly, I know you're still upset about what happened between us last time and I completely understand why. But I really need to tell you this."

I decided to trash my apology. Maybe Ricky was going to confess or something. Instead I raised an eyebrow and said, "Well, make it fast. I have over three hours of homework to do."

Ricky took in a deep breath. He looked flustered and slightly bashful, his cheeks slowly heating up. What exactly was this kid going to tell me? Ricky looked into my eyes. "Kim, I really regret the way I treated you. I...um...I didn't really realize how much I truly liked you until after you..you know...left."

I gasped, "Oh my _God!_ _What!?_"

Ricky ran a hand through his hair. "I know, I know. You and Jack probably have a thing now, but I just had to get that out there. Kim Crawford, I really like you."

My mind started racing. I couldn't even say that Jack and I weren't in a relationship. I was shocked—beyond stupefied. This had to be a total fraud. This had to be a prank or something. Was I being _Punk'd_? Where the heck were the hidden cameras? Did Rue set him up or something?

"Is it because I'm blonde?" I asked suddenly.

Ricky gazed at me, slightly perplexed. "Um..."

"Is it because I'm blonde?" I repeated, more forcefully this time.

Ricky looked nervous, "Wha—what do you mean by "is it because I'm blonde"?"

"Do you think I'm stupid or something because I'm blonde? Because FYI, I'm in advanced classes in school. Sure yeah, I don't have a perfect GPA like Milton, but I'm not flipping stupid!" I exclaimed. I could feel my anger building.

Ricky looked even more confused than before. "Okay...Kim, what does stupidity have to do with anything?"

"Well you obviously think I'm an idiot or something if you expect me to believe that you actually _like_ me." I snapped. Ricky opened his mouth to reply but I cut him off, "I'm not stupid, Ricky. For all I know, you probably went to that cheap acting school Rudy went to because I know for a fact that you don't regret crud!"

"Kim," Ricky tried, "I really do like you and I really do regret what I did. I came to apologize. That's why I came back. I was looking all over town for you. I even went to Seaford High but I couldn't find you and no one knew where you were!"

I let out a dry laugh."Um, yeah and clearly you didn't look hard enough."

"Kim," Ricky reached for my hand again, but I snatched it back, just as before.

I glowered at him. "I said, _don't touch me!_ And don't "Kim" me either. I highly doubt you really care about my feelings, or anyone else's, for that matter. Everything is always about you. Heck, you're probably doing this for good publicity or something. This is just one big publicity stunt. Then, when it's all over, you can go back to that other blonde you were with in that magazine."

Ricky said nothing so I continued on, "Yeah, I saw that magazine article with you and that "mysterious" blonde. Who was she? _Rue?_"

I knew I was taking a big risk mentioning Rue's name, but I needed some sort of reaction from Ricky. Proof that the girl he was speaking to really _was_ Rue and not some other blonde girl who looked suspiciously a lot like her. Fortunately for me, I did get my reaction. Recognition flashed through his eyes and he clammed up slightly.

"Rue? I don't know who you're talking about." Ricky lied, "That girl was just some fan, Kim. I don't like her or anything. Kimberly, I like _you_."

I let out another dry laugh and shoved the boy out of my way as I walked off. "I'm sure you do."

If I'd been paying any attention, I would have realized that less than three minutes after I'd left Ricky standing alone in front of Bobby Wasabi's, I'd received a text message. If I'd noticed the text, then I would have read it and if I _had_ read it, I would have realized it said: _That was a BIG mistake..._

* * *

><p>I was almost positive that person was following me.<p>

I glanced around nervously, shifting my backpack onto my other shoulder, completely aware that some shadowed figure was following me. It was dark and everyone knew that when you walked home alone in the dark you were just asking for trouble. I was scared out of my flipping mind; more so than when I'd heard the weird thumping noises last night. Someone was stalking me and I was pretty sure it was the vandals—well, more like _a_ vandal.

At first, I'd thought that I was just being paranoid again since I'd been really jumpy these days, but then I'd thought back to my paranoia on being watched and then figuring out that I really _was_ being watched. Upon that thought I'd decided to keep on the lookout for the creeper.

Keeping tabs on the stalker proved harder than I'd thought since it was dark and this person was like a flipping chameleon—totally camouflaged. It was as if a _ninja_ was following me or something. Every time I turned around, the stalker was gone and all I saw were a few inconspicuous stragglers.

I turned my head slightly so I could catch a glimpse of the unwanted follower from the corner of my eye. I couldn't see the figure properly as he or she...I was just going to call the stalker an "it". I couldn't see the figure properly since _it_ was keeping a safe distance from me. Close enough to keep tabs on me, but just far away enough so I couldn't make out who it was. Totally shady.

My stomach dropped as I entered the park. The park seemed a whole lot more eerie when it was dark and someone was following you home. It somehow seemed more grim and shadowy. Also, the park was absolutely empty so if something happened to me tonight, no one would know until morning.

I timidly trudged through the park, my heart pounding. I was so—

_SNAP!_

I gasped, terror filling me. My hand flew to my chest. What was _that?_ I sighed with relief when I realized that the snapping noise had only been me stepping on a twig and not the vandal choosing its weapon of choice. I mentally slapped myself in annoyance. I was acting about as dramatic as Grace was.

I turned slightly to check and see if the stalker was behind me. As usual, the vandal was nowhere in sight. I continued walking, picking up pace. I had to get out of here before I went clinically insane or something. I suddenly wished that I _had_ taken Milton or Jack's offer for a ride home that way I wouldn't be walking home alone and I most definitely wouldn't have walked into—

I let out a little gasp as realization hit me. The person following me was probably Ricky trying to see where I lived or something. He was probably stalking me or he sent his bodyguards to stalk me. _Or_, I didn't really want to admit it but, what if he'd sent his bodyguards after me to make sure that I got home safely or something? I mean, it _was_ late and Ricky "supposedly" _did_ care about me.

I stopped walking and turned around. I glanced around the park trying to see if the stalker was a bodyguard or something but there were too many trees. The creeper could have been hiding behind any of them. I scanned the park once again before yelling, "_RICKY!_ I _know_ you are the one following me! Cut it out! You are freaking me out!"

My phone vibrated and I pulled it out of my pocket. I noticed that I had two new text messages. I decided to read the most recent one; the other text could wait. My breath caught in my throat when I read the text: _Not Ricky..._

Hasta la vista, baby!

I started sprinting as fast as I could with a homework-laden backpack. I turned my head as I ran, my hair whipping around my face. Through the strands of my hair, I could see the stalker making haste. The stalker was sprinting as well and was slowly closing the gap between us. Soon, my name would be on my gravestone.

I tried to pick up the pace but my bag was slowing me down also, there was a small stonewall up ahead. I had to find a way to manoeuvre around it or else it was "Bye Bye, Kimmy".

I decided to try something that I'd only done a couple times before—this wall-jumping stunt.

When Jack and I were bored and felt like causing trouble at the mall, we often ran around the place, trying to get the mall cops on our tail for an adrenaline rush. Jack often showed off and tricked when we freeran and with me being competitive, I often tried to one up him. Sure we got kicked out of the mall for a week because of it but it was totally worth it.

And right now, all this freerunning was probably about to come in handy. I wasn't going to do all these crazy acrobatics. It was unnecessary. All I needed to do was jump the wall and I was good. I mean…if the stalker didn't get to me first...

I sped up and flung my bag over the wall, praying that I didn't have anything valuable inside (and _no_ Jack's clothes did _not_ count as valuable). I looked behind me again. The vandal, from what I could see, was in all black with a ski mask on and was also a couple metres away from me.

I had one chance to make the jump. If I was off by a second, I was a goner. I raced towards the wall and jumped, my hand catching on the wall. The wall hurt my hands. I could feel the jagged stones cutting into my hand but I ignored the pain. I pulled myself up and swung my legs over the wall. I jumped off and raced for my bag. _Yes!_ I'd made it.

I looked behind me as I scooped up my bag, relief washing through me. The vandal hadn't made—

I bolted away the minute I saw the vandal jump the wall with as much speed and agility as I had used. Okay, whoever this person was, he or she was really talented and was probably related to Batman or something.

I ran as fast as I could, hoping to evade the vandal-stalker-creeper person, but there didn't seem to be any possible form of escape. _Unless..._

I was heading towards the playground. Perhaps if I wove a complicated path through the apparatuses, I'd manage to lose the creeper.

I ran through the playground, weaving in and out of the apparatuses, the stalker on my tail the whole time. I climbed up a set of stairs and continued running, the vandal followed me from the ground. I jumped up and hastily crawled across the top of the monkey bars. I'd learned this trick when I was eight to escape from the "it" people during games of "Grounders". I did everything possible to escape from the vandal, but nothing seemed to be working. I slid down the slide and sprinted towards another apparatus.

I kept my eye on the vandal, who was just within reach with me. I couldn't see his or her eyes since it was so dark. I turned back around and—_YIKES!_

I almost ran into a pole. I quickly dodged the pole as to prevent myself from developing a bump larger than Jack's when he'd run into that tree during our search for Milton's _Swords and Magic _LARP group. Unfortunately for the vandal, he or she wasn't able to move quickly enough and ran smack dab into the pole. The stalker collapsed onto the ground.

Normally, I would have laughed at the sight of someone running into a pole, but I was far too scared for that. This person had only been a finger away from grabbing me. There was no _way_ that I was going to stop to check if he or she was dead. At most, the stalker would have a concussion (I'd run into poles before, I knew how this worked). I continued sprinting, not even bothering to look back anymore. I was afraid that if I did, I'd jinx everything that I'd worked so hard for (i.e.: escaping the vandal's clutches).

I fumbled with my house key once again as I struggled to open the door. I slammed the door shut with relief when I finally got inside, panting heavily. I'd managed to escape from my stalker with seconds to spare. Relief overwhelmed me as I sunk to the floor.

"Kim? Kimberly Crawford, you are late. You missed dinner and—" My mom walked into the entry hall. She gave me a onceover, her eyebrows rising with worry. "Kimberly, what's wrong. You look absolutely exhausted and out of breath. Are you okay, Kim? What's wrong?"

I panted and looked straight into my mom's eyes. I felt a little bad for not being able to tell her what was going on. She looked so worried. I swallowed and answered my mom as truthfully as I could, "Mom, I honestly wish I knew..."

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><p><strong>* AN ***

**Hey, hey, hey! SO sorry for not updating in a while. I wasn't home at ALL on Saturday, I went to the Glee: 3D Movie on Sunday and I was uninspired to write on Monday and I ONLY write when I'm inspired. If you think my updating is sparse now just wait until September when school starts up for me. Teehee!**

**Anyways, YAY! Ricky's back along with _creepy_ (I know, I know bballgirl22 I said _horror_ would come back for a visit too but by the time I got down to it, I didn't really want to elongate the chapter any more). So what's the deal with Ricky? Does he actually like Kim or is he there for another purpose? Was he the one who sent that 'BIG mistake' text to Kim and if he was, how did he get her number? **

**On the topic of phones, how was that number valid and invalid at the same time? And QUESTION: What type of phone should Kim have? I never really specified what type of phone Kim's got so I want suggestions. Suggest a phone people! I was originally going to go with a simple BlackBerry but now I'm asking.**

**Okay, so back onto _creepy_, someone was following Kim home. Like ehmehCREEPY! Lucky she managed to escape him/her, _right?_ Wondering who it could be? This person has the skills of a ninja so... **

**So, I actually am going to write a Jack/Kim oneshot on their mentioned sugar high (currently titled Sugar, Spice and Everything KICK) but it might take a while because I'm also trying to start another Kickin' It story up. I actually have six works in process alongside VA and their work-in-progress titles are: **

**Fame**

**Last One Standing**

**Parents: Love Em' or Hate Em'**

**My Soul to Take**

**The Shadowing of Honor**

**Only Exception**

**Okay, so to choose which of these to write for I usually write the first chapter and choose to continue whichever chapter/plot I like most. But I might get you guys to decide. I'll post summaries for these later like maybe in another A/N and describe them a little bit. I've finished writing the first chapter for _Fame_, _Last One Standing_ and _Parents_ and am currently working on _My Soul to Take_ and _The Shadowing of Honor_. _Only Exception_ is a oneshot Song-Fic off Paramore's _Only Exception_ so I'll just work on it whenever.**

**Alrighty then, that's all for now. ****Hasta la vista baby, _ALPHA!_**

**PS: Don't take Chinese food from the garbage and EAT it! That, my friend, is ehmehEWWW!**

**PPS: Locker notes WILL return next chapter as next chapter is supposed to take place at school and I'll feature a little Milton/Kim friendship because their friendship is absolutely adorable.**

**PPPS: Who took the trashed vid-cams?**


	8. Chapter 7

*** A/N ***

**Hey! It's Alpha again with my "Kickin' It" FanFiction, "Vandals Anonymous". Unlike the previous chapters there will not be a long _Author's Note_ because of the unfortunate event which occurred earlier today. This chapter was accidentally replaced with another chapter while I was updating a couple of my older chapters. I was able to replace the chapter with an updated version of the seventh chapter, after having a legitimate panic attack, but not with an A/N since I do not save my A/Ns to my USB. Sorry for any inconvenience.**

**Anyway, DISCLAIMER, DISCLAIMER! I do _not _(read: do _NOT_) own Disney XD's Kickin' It**

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><p><strong>REPOSTED 0502/2013**

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><p><strong>*<span>KIMBERLY CRAWFORD<span>** *

I stumbled through the halls of Seaford High as listless as ever, my body and eyes begging for mercy. The whole "vandals" ordeal was really starting to take a toll on me and my sleeping habits.

Once again, I'd succumbed to my insomnia and had spent the whole night up worrying about the latest advancements in the "vandals" case. I felt nauseous just thinking about what had happened yesterday. Truman had denied being a part of the vandalism, we had learned that Ricky Weaver had been spotted with Rue right outside our dojo, Jack and I had found surveillance cameras hidden in the change rooms, I had actually run into Ricky Weaver, and I had been followed home by a masked stranger—all this had happened yesterday. Not your average Thursday, hey?

"Whoa, Kim. You don't look so good. Did you suffer from insomnia once again?" I turned towards Milton, trying to look a lot perkier than I felt. Of course, that failed. I felt even more exhausted than I'd been yesterday. Great, that meant that Jack was going to try to shove me into the nurse's office again.

"Kim, I know you're tired. You don't need to put on a front with me." Milton said wearily. I watched as Milton slowly walked over to me. He looked every bit as exhausted as I did, I noted. He had dark bags under his eyes and it was quite obvious that he was trying to stifle a yawn.

"Really?" I asked sarcastically, "Is it _really_ all that obvious?"

As usual, Milton took my comment literally. "Well, your eyes are quite puffy and there are large, dark bags beneath them. I mean, you're dressed like it's below sixty degrees…"

"Hey!" I looked down at my—well, _Jack's_ hoodie. He left it at my house once and I still hadn't returned it to him. It was just sitting on my desk and I'd meant to return it to him this morning along with the clothes I borrowed yesterday but since I was freezing, I had decided to throw it on. "I was cold!"

"You are aware that decreased body temperature is a symptom of sleep deprivation right?" Milton questioned.

I rolled my eyes. "Anything else, Milton?"

"Yeah," Milton nodded, "Your _hair!_ Please Kim, let me fix it! 'Cause honey, it looks like Eddie went all "Explorer Scout" on it _again_ and you let Henry play with it in the _dark!_"

I gasped and self-consciously put a hand to my long, blonde locks. I knew my hair didn't look all that great (seriously, you tried doing your hair when your arm felt like it weighed ten tons), but I didn't think that I'd failed _that_ badly at fixing it. I looked at Milton all wide-eyed. "Is it _really_ that bad?"

Milton nodded solemnly and I cringed, suddenly feeling really emotional as if I was on my period or something. "Fine! Please fix it, Milton! I feel like a wreck, but I don't want to look like one too!"

Milton gazed at me sympathetically. "Okay. Okay. Calm down Kim. Do you have a brush or comb?"

I nodded. "In my bag."

I pulled both my comb and brush (the ones I'd reserved for after Pep Squad practice) out of my bag and handed them to Milton. He gave me a small smile as he gratefully accepted each of them. I turned around and allowed Milton to start on my hair, wincing every time he tugged at a knot with the comb, struggling to resist the urge to yell at him. Was I hormonal or what? I felt so much more emotional and moody than I did yesterday. Was that a symptom of sleep deprivation too?

"Wow Kim," Milton grunted as he tugged at another knot. "Your hair is really tangled. Did you even _bother_ combing it this morning?"

"Well, I'm sorry for not focusing on my hair this morning!" I snapped. "I have other things on my mind right now such as who planted the vid-cams in the change room. Did your nerd friend find out what network the Perv-a-tron 5000s are hooked to?"

Milton shook his head. "No, I don't believe so. Oh, by the way, I'm going to French braid your hair."

I stiffened, bracing myself against another painful pull. Milton's nerd friend—whatever his name was—_still_ hadn't been able to trace the network the vid-cam was hooked to? What kind of nerd was this kid? He didn't sound any smarter than those losers on _The Big Bang Theory_. He was a shame to Dexter from _Dexter's Laboratory._ I groaned in frustration. "He better hurry!"

Milton stopped combing my hair and I let out a soft sigh of relief because Milton's tugging was really starting to give me a headache. "Kim, calm down. You can't rush the powers of the nerd."

"But that kid needs to hurry up!" I argued, "Things are really starting to get freaky and not to mention dangerous! We need to know who the vandals are now!"

"Kim," Milton looked around anxiously. I knew that I was beginning to attract attention, but I was too riled up to care. This "vandals" thing had to end _now_ and we couldn't end it if we didn't know who had started it. Although Milton most likely agreed with me on that front, he did not agree with the way I was displaying my frustration with not knowing where the images were going. He was on the brink of actually _begging_ me to calm down. "Stop yelling. Please, people are starting to look."

"I'm not going to calm down, Milton! Your friend needs to hurry the heck up! Someone was following me home last night and I really want to know who!" I shot back. The moment those words left my lips I instantly regretted it. My eyes widened and my hand immediately flew to my lips. I turned around to see Milton's facial expression. Milton's eyes were wide and his jaw had dropped open. He looked at me, flabbergasted. "_What?_"

I sighed. "I was followed home last night by a masked stranger..." I paused, shooting Milton a glance. The freckled boy's face rapidly grew pallid and it looked as if the horror of something had finally dawned on him.

"Milton?" I said tentatively, "What's wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost."

"No ghost..." Milton said, his voice low. "Maybe a vandal..."

"Where?" I looked around frantically. I couldn't see anyone worthy enough of stalking me or leaving strange notes in my locker. No one here seemed all that capable of being so sneaky or creepy.

"Not here." Milton said, "Last _night_ while I was having dinner."

"Okay...please explain?" I asked.

"Last night, someone was lurking outside my house, I'm absolutely positive of it. At dinner, I believe I saw someone peeking through the windows watching me and my family as we ate. In retrospect, it was quite dark outside and whenever I took a closer look, the figure was gone so perhaps it was possible that I was just seeing things. However, I'm almost certain I caught glimpses and pieces of another person." Milton explained.

My mind was racing. Okay, so someone had been stalking me at the same time someone else was lurking around Milton's house? This almost confirmed that we were dealing with two (or more) people. But still, that didn't really help with revealing the identity of the vandals. All this gave me was one more thing to have nightmares about.

Milton and I fell silent, both struggling to understand what the separate incidents had implied. Neither of us spoke as Milton resumed his hair-styling, tugging at all the knots while I winced and cringed in pain. There were no words needed to express our fear and confusion over the vandals.

Our silence wasn't broken until Jack trudged over looking every bit as tired as Milton and I (hey, join the club!). Jack groaned as he dropped his head onto my shoulder. I tried to shrug him off to no avail. His forehead was, like, permanently attached to my shoulder.

"Um...hi?" I said awkwardly.

"Ugh, I think I have a fever. Either that or I'm just _really_ tired." Jack groaned. Or at least, that's what I _thought_ he groaned. He was mumbling into my shoulder so I couldn't really hear what he was saying.

"Um..." I tilted Jack's head upwards and placed a hand on his forehead to check to see if he really had a fever "Grandma Style". Jack _was_ warmer than usual but he didn't really seem all that feverish. He had a low-grade fever at most. I removed my hand from his head. "I'm guessing that you're tired because you're not that hot."

"So if I improve my attractiveness I'll stop hallucinating?" Jack joked weakly.

I wanted to snap back that when I'd said he that wasn't that "hot" I hadn't mean he wasn't attractive (not saying that he was...um...attractive or anything...), but something else he said caught my attention. What did Jack mean by "hallucinating"?

Apparently I wasn't the only one questioning Jack's choice of words since Milton voiced my question. "Wait a minute, Jack. What did you mean by "hallucinating"?"

"What I meant by "hallucinating" _was_ "hallucinating"." Jack deadpanned. "Last night, I kept on seeing some pretty weird stuff. Like every time I looked out my bedroom window, I swore I saw a face looking back at me—and not my own. Of course, I'd blink or rub my eyes and the hallucination was gone. Then this morning, when I was walking to school, I swore someone was following me, but every time I turned around the hallucination was gone."

I swallowed and turned to Milton, who looked too alarmed to care that I had just ruined all the progress he'd made on my French braid by moving my head. We exchanged a nervous glance. So if Jack had seen someone last night, Milton had seen someone last night, and I had been stalked by someone last night, how many people were on our tails?

"Um...Jack?" I said, "Maybe you _weren't_ hallucinating..."

Jack lifted his head from my shoulder and looked between Milton and me, noticing our nervous apprehension. He gazed at us suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

Before I could carefully plan out what I was going to say so Jack wouldn't freak out, Milton blurted out in a rush, "You may not have been hallucinating since I saw someone lurking around my house last night and someone was following Kim home as well!"

I watched a smear of emotions play across Jack's face until he finally settled on dumbfounded shock. Jack gawked at Milton and me and we silently—and not to mention, _impatiently_—waited for Jack to speak. We didn't want to say anything else in fear it would send him into paralytic shock or something. He needed time to ingest the new info which, I guessed, would take him a little longer than usual since he was so tired and had a slight fever.

Finally, Jack managed to shake himself out of his stupor. He immediately turned to me, worry illuminating his dark eyes. "Someone was following you home last night?"

I nodded slowly, bracing myself for whatever was coming next. It was almost guaranteed that Jack was going to—

"Are you alright? What happened? How long did the person following you for? Was it dark? Was there anyone around? Were you alone?" Jack exploded with about thirty or forty more similar questions before finally putting his head in his hands. "Ugh, I should have stayed with you at the dojo. We should have walked home together."

I raised a hand, temporarily silencing Jack. I understood that he was really worried about me or whatever, but thanks to my insomnia I was feeling pretty irritable and found all his compassion rather annoying. Cute and heart warming, maybe, but annoying. He was really grating my damsel-in-distress pet-peeve. "_Okay_. You seriously need to calm down, Jack. You're starting to develop a Hero Complex and I'd hate for you to have to commit fake crimes for the thrill of saving people."

Jack raised his head and glared at me. "I'm _not _developing a Hero Complex! I'm just really worried about you, Kim! Something could have happened last night!" His voice grew softer. "Something really bad could have happened to you last night. The vandal could have hurt you or even worse. Kim, you are one of my best friends and I don't want anything happening to my friends..."

There seemed to be a little more to his "best friend" statement, but I said nothing. We stared at one another for a moment before Milton cleared his throat awkwardly as he resumed braiding my hair. "Well, then—"

"MILTON! JACK! KIM!" The three of us turned around, looking over at the voices that called our names a little more than over excitedly. It was Jerry and Eddie. They ran towards us though the school has a strict "no-running" policy, both looking very wide awake and full of a bountiful amount of energy.

I glared at the two boys semi-jealously and semi-annoyed. I was a little jealous that they had all the energy I was lacking. Seriously, their liveliness was really annoying. I finally understood why Charlie was always so peeved at the pink and blue unicorns in _Charlie the Unicorn_.

"Milton, Jack, Kim! We've been looking all—" Jerry paused and gave me an onceover. "Kim, isn't that Jack's hoodie?"

All the boys turned to look at me and I immediately started blushing. Leave it to Jerry, the most oblivious of us all, to notice that I was wearing Jack's hoodie. Jack looked at me, raising an eyebrow. "Uh yeah, isn't that mine?"

Again with the awkward moments!

I was slightly flustered. "Um, yeah… I was going to return it to you this morning but I got cold so I put it on…" Looking from the quasi-believing looks on Milton, Jerry and Eddie's faces to Jack's simply questioning look, I quickly changed the subject. "_So_, Jerry, Eddie, what were you two so excited to share that you ran down the hallway screaming at the top of your lungs?"

"Oh yeah!" Eddie said as if he'd suddenly remembered the purpose of his hall-sprint (which I was pretty sure he probably did). "You'll never guess who Jerry ran into when he was walking home yesterday from the dojo!"

"Who?" we all turned to Jerry expectantly, waiting for his answer as to who he'd run into on his way home. Maybe Jerry had run into a vandal, one that was stalking him or whatever. But also considering that this was Jerry, after all, he probably thought big news was him running into a cheerleader who didn't want to kill him.

"I ran into," Jerry leaned in and lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper, "_Justin_. You know, "_Cheater _Justin"."

"That kid who cheated at a tournament and got kicked out of his dojo, right?" I asked. Jerry nodded and I continued on, "Okay, just checking. So where did you two meet up? Did he look suspicious or anything?"

Jerry shrugged. "I saw him just outside the mall and I guess he sorta looked shady."

Jack raised an eyebrow at Jerry. "Uh…define shady..."

"Well," Jerry squinted and stroked his chin as if he'd suddenly grown facial hair overnight or something (as if!). "I dunno, Justin was wearing a lot of black and he was carrying a large duffle bag. I yelled his name and waved to him but Justin just seemed really, I dunno..."

We waited expectantly for Jerry to continue his statement but he never did. Thinking that Jerry had probably lost his train of thought, I cleared my throat to remind him that we were still here. That seemed to zap Jerry out of his daze or whatever. He looked at us. "No seriously, I really _don't_ know. I don't know the word I'm looking for."

We all groaned and rolled our eyes in annoyance. Milton decided to offer Jerry his vocabulary assistance. "You believe Justin's manner had the mechanics to evoke equivocal emotions within us?"

The rest of us stared at Milton in wide-eyed confusion.

"Mind to dumb it down for us?" I asked semi-sarcastically.

"Justin seemed suspicious." Milton said as he finished off my braid—finally. "There, I'm done, Kim."

I nodded and gratefully took my comb and hairbrush back. "Thank you, Milton."

"And thank you for simplifying." Jack turned to look at Jerry. "So, Justin was suspicious looking?"

"Well, "suspicious" wasn't the word I was looking for but sure he did look sorta suspicious." Jerry admitted. "Justin look kinda annoyed or freaked out when he saw me. Like he was, I dunno, hiding something. I mean, we pranked him into confessing what he did so what if he's out for revenge of the pranking-kind?"

I mulled over Jerry's surprisingly well articulated suggestion. Jerry had a legitimate point about something. Sure the whole "all-black" thing didn't really make Justin much of a suspect since quite a few people wore all-dark colours at one point or another, but his facial expression in relation to seeing Jerry was enough to raise suspicion. Why did he seem so freaked out or annoyed (but mostly freaked out) when he saw Jerry? Was he trying to hide something?

But throwing Justin into the mix of suspects was only going to make things crazier. Did he have the skills to break into Truman's father's office to find the vid-cams? Was he tech smart enough to set them up? Who was the kid working with? Did that mean that Rue and Ricky (among others) were innocent?

In reality, all we knew about Justin was that he was a grade-A cheater and nothing more. We didn't know if he had the skills anymore than we knew if Ricky Weaver really had the voice…which reminded me...

"I ran into someone yesterday too." I spoke up, "I ran into Ricky Weaver."

The guys gasped collectively.

"You ran into _Dollhair__?_" Jack asked incredulously.

I suddenly felt defensive of Ricky. Maybe what he'd told me yesterday was finally getting to me. Could I get an _ew_ if that's true? "His name is _Ricky_ and he doesn't have doll hair."

"I'll believe it when he combs it." Jack muttered with an edge to his voice. I glared at Jack. He had no problem using Ricky's _real _name yesterday so why not now? Another interesting question was why did Jack always seem so mad when he spoke of Ricky? I'd have to ask him about that later (same with the whole "experience" thing). He looked back at me. "So, what did the kid do this time?"

I explained my awkward and not to mention _strange_ encounter with Ricky. As I told the story, I kept my eyes focused on Jack, who kept his eyes trained on me. I saw something flicker through his eyes for a brief moment. Was that a hint of _jealousy_ I saw?

"So Ricky claimed to love you and you told him off?" Eddie asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "Dang, girls can be too cruel."

"You're only saying that because Donna Tobin turned you down for the sixth time yesterday." Jack retorted. He began mimicking Eddie's mini-rant from yesterday when we were on our way to the dojo, "_'Donna Tobin's irresistible with her auburn hair and glowing green eyes. Why won't she go out with me? I'm irresistible too so why is she resisting?!'_"

"Hey!" Eddie shoved Jack, who almost toppled over.

"And I wasn't being cruel!" I said a tad bit more defensively than I probably should have. "I was being _honest_. Besides, that's not the important part. What's important is that we now know that Ricky knows Rue!"

"But we still don't know if they're associated with one another or not." Milton pointed out, "It could simply be another fan-to-celebrity thing. Remember, Rue is still a teenage girl no matter how cruel, vengeful, and conniving she may be. She probably has celebrity crushes just like the rest of us."

"I suppose..." I said reluctantly.

Milton nodded approvingly. "Yes—"

Right on cue, before Milton could give us a "She's Just Like Us" lecture, the warning bell for first period rang. Could I get a "Saved by the Bell"? The rest of the guys and I simultaneously let out silent sighs of relief. There was only so much lecturing one could deal with at school and class hadn't even begun yet.

We agreed to meet up at lunch to further discuss the later advancements in the "vandals" case (Jack, Milton and I still had to tell Eddie and Jerry about being stalked and watched) and split up. But before Jack could leave, I grabbed onto his arm and said, "Hey, come to my locker for your clothes. You know, the ones I borrowed yesterday."

Jack looked at where I'd grabbed onto him distractedly. "Um, can it wait, like, until afterschool?"

I shook my head. "No, I have Pep Squad practice the minute the bell rings and I can't be late for it considering the fact that I skipped out on Monday and was late on Wednesday."

Jack nodded and obediently followed me to my locker. As I spun the dial of my lock, Jack asked, "So...um...do you really think that...uh...Ricky was being sincere about...you know...liking you?"

I glanced at Jack. He was starting to go pink. Fever or...? "I don't know. I sort of wish he was since that would mean one less person on our suspect list, right?"

"Right! Right! Right! Of course!" Jack said a tad too quickly.

I looked at him again as I pulled my locker open. I opened my bag and withdrew Jack's clothes before shoving the bag back into my locker and withdrawing my binder. I started to hand Jack his clothes, but I noticed he was distracted by a note he was reading. I gasped, feeling myself heat up a bit as I snatched the note away. I seriously hoped that it hadn't been one of the MASH games Grace and I had played out of boredom. I tended to keep the ones with _favourable_ results...

I looked at Jack. His face displayed a mixture of emotions and I began to panic."Uh, look Jack, it was only a game! I swear! I don't really like y—"

"No! No! No! No!" Jack blurted out, "No! Look at the note! Read it!"

Shooting the boy one last glance I looked down at the note, my internal serenity quickly dissolving with every word.

_Did you enjoy your late night run, Kimberly? Would you mind if we joined you for another one?_

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><p><strong>* AN ***

**I would like to thank you all for taking the time to read this chapter of "Vandals Anonymous". Please leave me a comment or a review on the events of this chapter. Feel free to also send PMs. **

**- ALPHA**


	9. Chapter 8

*** A/N ***

**Hey! It's Alpha again with my 'Kickin' It' FanFic. Like before there's a longer A/N at the bottom of the story so please R&R**

**OHMIGOSH! OHMIGOSH! OMIGOSH! OMIGOSH! You guys gave me _OVER _100 reviews! Squeee! I'm so happy right now I could die! I love you all _so _much that this chapter (and the next one) is totally dedicated to ALL of you!**

**I'm going to look over all the comments for what type of phone you guys think Kim should have and I'll chose one for next chapter.**

**Anyway, DISCLAIMER, DISCLAIMER! I do _not _(read: do _NOT_) own Disney XD's Kickin' It**

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><p>* <strong><span>KIMBERLY CRAWFORD<span> ***

My sleep deprivation became much more obvious during Pep Squad practice. My head pounded in beat to our cheers, my sight blurring slightly at each painful pang, and I could feel myself slipping in and out of sync with the other girls—two symptoms, Milton would say, of sleep deprivation: headaches and slow reaction time.

I was so much more tired than I had been yesterday, seriously. I was exhausted to the point where I was the kind of tired that no amount of sleep could fix. You want proof that I really was that tired? I had, disgustingly enough, actually _considered_ going to the nurse's office to lie down. I almost immediately turned down that idea, however, since I knew I'd never be able to fall asleep. At least, not after the locker note I'd received this morning anyway...

_Did you enjoy your late night run, Kimberly? Would you mind if we joined you for another one?_

Just thinking about the note gave me the shivers. Did this mean that someone was going to follow me home tonight or what? And just like the first one I'd received, this one was also typed out so there was no way of knowing who'd slipped it into my locker...or who'd slipped Jack and Milton's notes into their lockers either. Jack and Milton had also received locker notes with theirs being fairly chilling. Milton's said, "_Always give thanks before you eat, Milton, since you won't be thanking us for what we do later",_ and Jack's said, "_Peek-a-boo, Jack. 'Tis irony is it not? That I can see you but you can't see me?"_

Milton's note implied that something sinister (yes, something more sinister than what was currently going on) was going to happen sooner rather than later while Jack's was just straight up freaky, implying that the vandals were secretly watching him. The whole scenario was very "Edward Cullen-esque" considering that the note was basically saying that the vandals _had _been looking through his bedroom window or at least, that was the _implication_ since Jack hadn't been able to find any surveillance cameras hidden in his room.

During our lunchtime discussion the rest of us Wasabi Warriors had learned that Jack hadn't been able to find any vid-cams in his room the previous night and that had upped the creepy factor about five times. Did that mean that the vandals hadn't actually hidden vid-cams in Jack's or even the rest of our bedrooms? Did that mean also mean that they'd just laced other areas of our homes or did this new discovery revoke that theory too?

If I'd thought the whole valid-or-invalid phone number was confusing, then clearly I was mistaken. How much of what we knew as fact was actually fiction? The whole "vandals" ordeal really was starting to become a total nightma—

I jumped as Coach (yes, it really was just "Coach") blew her whistle long and hard, the trill ring echoing throughout the gymnasium, immediately zapping me out of my thoughts, worsening my headache, and bringing the rest of the cheerleaders to a halt. We all stopped cheering, panting in mild exhaustion. For the last twenty minutes (we'd been practicing for almost forty-five), Coach had had us practicing a brand new yet totally complicated and draining routine. Seriously, what had happened to the remnants of my energy?

Coach stopped pacing around us and weaved her way back to the front of the gym, nodding in approval. "Good work, girls. You all did fairly well on the new routine. Of course there are a few rough patches here and there, but the overall effort was good. You can have a quick water break, girls. Just five minutes and then we'll get back to cheering. The Senior Squad is coming in on Wednesday and I want you girls to be ready to blow them away."

I let out a big sigh as I started for my gym bag. I'd been waiting for the break ever since my headache had started blurring my sight and giving me flashes of vertigo. Maybe I was just a little dehydrated and needed some water. Perhaps a little drink would alleviate my headache.

"Kim!" I turned around as I took a sip of my water bottle, rolling my eyes when I'd realized who'd called my name. It was none other than Donna Tobin, my second-in-command alongside Alyssa Morris.

I never fully understood why I needed two SICs, but Coach had insisted and had assigned Donna and Alyssa to be them—which was a _bad_ idea. If there was one person that Donna Tobin, the biggest sweetheart at Seaford High, couldn't stand, it was Alyssa Morris. Which was fair since Alyssa couldn't stand her either.

Leaving Donna and Alyssa alone together was like leaving—oh I don't know—Jerry alone in a room with your cheese-drizzled nachos. One minute one of them was there and then the next minute one of them was gone (I'd always had a feeling that Alyssa would be the survivor due to her aggressive nature, but Grace thought that Donna would be the survivor due to the fact that she would probably have an army of boys behind her. I was still waiting for the impending event so I could win ten dollars from Grace).

I motioned for Donna to come over and she instantly obliged. I watched as Donna rushed over, her auburn ponytail bouncing jovially at every step, and discreetly tried to sneak a peek at her legs.

Jack—I meant, _all_ _the guys_ in school—agreed that Donna had the hottest legs but I was rather dubious of that claim. Not that I was jealous or anything, but _seriously?_ Just because her legs were long, tanned and thin didn't make them any better than any of the other girls' legs. The majority of the girls on the Pep Squad team had legs identical to that chic's so _whatever_.

Donna wrapped her perfectly manicured fingers around my bicep and pulled me to the side, away from the other girls. Her doe-like green eyes carefully searched mine as her dark red brows knit together in worry. I could see a nervous pout beginning to form on her heavily glossed lips. "We need to talk."

"No really?" I couldn't help but to sarcastically retort. I immediately bit my tongue out of guilt and willed myself to be silent. Just because I was tired and freaked out with the worst headache known to mankind did not mean that I had the right to be a total jerk to Donna (no matter how badly I wanted to break her "perfect" little legs). That just proved that I was suffering from sleep deprivation symptom number one: irritability.

"Kim," Donna said cautiously. Being as overly empathetic as she was, Donna could tell that she was treading on thin ice. "All practice you've been really out of it." I nodded and she continued on, "You've been a couple seconds behind everyone else in the routine, you've been struggling to learn the most basic of moves, you've been—"

"Mind getting to the point?" I asked, struggling to force back my irritation. Today, Donna's delicacy was even more aggravating than Grace's bluntness (when we met in third grade, the girl told me I looked like a rainbow barfed all over me and then proceeded to call me ugly). On a regular day, I could take criticism but today I just couldn't deal with it. Not when I was so tired and stressed out over the whole "vandals" ordeal.

Donna gave me a nervous glance and blurted out in a rush, "So I'm just asking, please Kim, why don't you take a break? Sit back and relax a little bit? You seem abnormally stressed out and you look absolutely exhausted. I can see you struggling to stifle that yawn and all that concealer isn't concealing anything."

I stepped back from Donna, trying to carefully rearrange my thoughts so that when I spoke I wouldn't come off as a total jerk. She was, after all, just worried about me and my mental health, very much like Jack and Milton were, annoyingly enough.

I gave her a fake smile (Yay! Barbie would be proud). "Um, Donna, thank you for your concern but I'm not going to sit out. Like Coach said, the Senior Pep Squad will be coming in and I really do need to practice. Besides, I _can_ take care of myself you know." I forced a laugh, "You are starting to sound like Jack, trying to convince me to take a break."

Donna stared at me, her eyes rapidly filling with even more worry. "I know, I know. You're just like Kim Possible. Not on the whole "saving the world" aspect, but just like her you are capable of taking care of yourself. I'm just worried about you, that's all."

"Don't worry about me!" I said, giving Donna another fake smile which she returned uncertainly. Luckily, before Donna was able to make another comment, Coach blew her whistle again signalling the end of our very short break.

Giving Donna a wave, I rushed forward to join formation, stopping a couple steps in after hearing someone else call my name. "_Crawford!_"

I turned around and saw Coach waving me over somewhat frantically. What was her deal? I jogged over to Coach, wincing at every step since my sips of water hadn't alleviated my headache at all. In fact, I think my headache had gotten worse with each pound blurring my sight just a little more than the last. Coach motioned for me to take a seat on the bleachers before her and I did exactly that, my body sighing in temporary relief.

"_Crawford_," Coach said loudly, but when she saw my wince of pain her voice softened. "Crawford, what's up with you today? Your performance has been subpar; not something I want to see from my head cheerleader. What's wrong? Are you sick?"

I looked up into Coach's warm grey eyes only to find them clouded with worry just as Donna's had been. I was compelled to tell her the truth. To tell her what had happened to the dojo and the seriously scary stuff that had followed, but I knew all too well that I couldn't. I mean, for crying out loud I couldn't tell Grace—my best friend, my own mother or even Rudy so what made me think that I could tell some random teacher at school what was bugging me?

Instead, I flashed Coach a one-hundred-percent fake smile (seemed like I was full of them today). "I'm alright, Coach. I'm just having an off-day."

Coach raised her eyebrows at me and I had a feeling I knew what was coming next. "An _off-day_, Crawford? I've seen you on an off-day and this is _not_ one of them. Kim," It felt a little weird hearing Coach say my first name since she hadn't used it in so long, "Honey, I think you should sit out for the rest of practice. Rest your body a bit. I'd say go home, but I know you wouldn't be down with that, right Crawford?"

And there it was. Coach's ever subtle offer to go home; the offer I'd been dreading. I didn't want to go home, trust me. I wanted to stay here and participate, but I knew that if I chose to stay Coach wouldn't let me participate. She'd make me sit on the bleachers and watch everyone else practice, the other girls glaring at me semi-jealously wondering why I got "special" treatment when in reality I just wanted to be out there with them.

I stood up, prepared to argue back with Coach to let me participate, but the minute I was up on my feet, a painful pang sounded through my head almost sending me sprawling to the floor. I sank back onto the bleachers and in that instant I knew that I needed an Advil ASAP and in order to get one I needed to leave ASAP.

I looked up at Coach, squinting against the gym lights which had suddenly become too bright for my eyes (where were my aviators when I needed them?). "Okay Coach, I know you want me to go home to get some rest so I will."

Coach grinned at me, visibly relaxing and the worry in her eyes fading a bit. I was assuming that she'd been prepared to force me to go home against my will, but I'd given in to the offer, much to her surprise. She had no idea I'd given in due to the constant pounding behind my eyes rather than being completely rational about taking a break.

Coach gave me a pat on the back, giving my shoulder a little squeeze. "Good choice, Crawford. I know you're quite the little trooper but everybody, even you, needs a little down time. You've seemed pretty dead these past few days."

Oh Coach, you had _no_ idea.

I reluctantly trudged to my gym bag, ready to collapse at any second due to my ever so painful migraine. My only motivation to continue moving—let alone _living_—was the little chant I kept on repeating to myself. It was the Little Blue Engine's motto, "_I think I can. I think I can._" Actually, the main reason why I was still up on my feet was because I was imagining the Wasabi boys taunting me and teasing me for being such a wimp over a "little" headache. These boys were my motivation for pretty much everything. My main goal in life was to do _everything_ better than the boys could.

I slipped on Jack's hoodie (yeah, I'd decided to keep it for a _wee _bit longer and he'd allowed me to), pausing for a moment to take in Jack's signature scent before picking up my gym bag and water bottle. I reached into the hoodie's pocket for my phone and powered it up as I left the gym. Coach hated it when our phones rang, beeped or even vibrated during practice so we had to have them off to prevent her from unleashing her wrath upon us.

I took a sip from my water bottle as I waited for any texts that I'd received during Pep Squad practice show up, silently wishing that I'd received a text from Grace saying that she'd just gotten home from the orthodontist. Grace lived a couple minutes from Seaford High—or at least, much closer than I did—so maybe I could pop over to her place to get an Advil or something.

Unfortunately for me, I hadn't received any texts from Grace meaning that she was probably still at the orthodontist (well, maybe that was unfortunate for _her_), but I did receive a text from someone—a picture message—from a..._unknown number?_

Allowing my inner-_Nancy Drew_ to take over, I decided to open the picture message, crossing my fingers that I wasn't about to get a visual of some body parts that should never _ever_ be seen outside of Health Class diagrams unless they were your own or you were consenting. So you know that saying "curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back"? Yeah well, sometimes you didn't receive that little bit of satisfaction. Sometimes you just learned a _lot _more than what you bargained for and ended up with that sinking feeling deep in your chest.

My initial curiosity quickly faded and was replaced with a brand new emotion—fear. I suddenly felt numb, my heart pounding loudly in my ears. I scrolled through the photos that I'd received, the glow of my cell phone illuminating my eyes, reflecting my growing fear.

I was receiving a whole ton of pictures of the boys, like, pictures of what they were doing right at that _exact _moment. Milton and Eddie were at the dojo training with Rudy, Jerry was at the park being chased off by a gaggle of geese with some bread in his hands, and Jack was napping off his fever. The pictures seemed to be frame-by-frame photos, the slightest movement being captured on camera.

My head spun and _not _(only) because my migraine was somehow still worsening. Did that mean that three or four different people were monitoring our every move and photographing it? Or were some of these photos taken a couple to several minutes earlier meaning that there really _was _only two people watching us?

I received another picture message from the same unknown number and hesitantly opened the file, my stomach dropping suddenly causing slight nausea at the sight of the latest photos. They were pictures of _me_. Like, pictures of_ me_ right _now_ wandering through the streets uncertainly, my paranoia fuelled by fear. I leaned in to examine the photos better, squinting against the brightness of my screen.

Yikes! I did look terrible with my eyes all puffy and Donna wasn't kidding when she'd said my concealer wasn't working but, um, that wasn't important. Someone was a couple feet away from me, taking pictures of me as I walked home alone.

_That _was important.

I glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the odd one out with the camera but I couldn't see anyone through the thick throng of people eagerly heading home. I was slightly confused since it was only four o' clock, not even rush hour. Why were there so many people on the street? Was I forgetting something? Sure it was Friday, but the streets weren't usually so crowded until around five o' clock.

I silently groaned in frustration, my annoyance and fear peaking. Someone was wandering among the crowd, following me home or at least photographing me and I had no idea who it was nor could I identify a suspicious figure. Then, to top it all off, someone else was watching the—

_Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! _

Was that _Justin _over there?

I abruptly stopped, ignoring the people swearing at me for stopping, and peered between the sea of bodies, searching for the semi-familiar face I'd thought I'd seen. Although the person was too far way for me to see clearly and squinting only made my head pound even harder, I was fairly certain that the person I was looking at was "Cheater Justin".

In that moment I made a quick, rash, and semi-rational decision (something I rarely did. We usually left that kind of thing to Jerry)—I decided to follow the person.

I wove through the crowd, muttering excuses at the very _colourful _swear words which were being slung at me. I moved as quickly as I could with a category five migraine and a homework-filled backpack, slowly closing the gap between me and "Justin". There were only a couple feet between us when I made the ultimate mistake: yelling at him.

The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I had made a mistake. "Justin" turned around, proving he really was the cheating brat, and I watched as his face morphed from confusion to shock to horror. I swallowed hard, almost hoping that he hadn't noticed me but unfortunately, he had. In a panic, Justin turned back around and started running…well…more like _sprinting_.

My head pounded in beat to my footsteps causing an increasing amount of vertigo as I ran. My surroundings continually went in and out of focus making my chase just that much more frustrating. I was struggling to keep up with Justin, not only because of my migraine, but also because of the number of people rushing to get home. Having to navigate through the crowd was frustrating as every move I made resulted in a new obstacle. I couldn't even channel my inner freerunner since I was barely thinking straight. All I could think of was capturing Justin and interrogating him while I took an Advil. Embarrassingly enough, I was being about as single-minded as Jerry.

It seemed like fate wanted Justin to have an advantage over me.

"_Justin!_" I yelled, but the kid ignored me, not even bothering to turn around. I groaned and rolled my eyes, muttering an apology to the older man I'd almost tripped. He started swearing at me for making him spill his coffee all over his over expensive suit, but I continued on. I had more important things to worry about than the price of dry cleaning. I tried calling Justin's name again, but once again I was ignored. If this kid was innocent he sure wasn't acting like he was. All I wanted to do was talk to him and he was running away like I was out to steal his soul.

"_Justin! _Stop running, please!" I tried again and in response he—_hey! _Did he _actually _just flip me _off?_ No, just _no_. You did _not _flip Kimberly Crawford off. You just _didn't._ I was about to give Justin a piece of my mind when he made a sharp left...wait..._what? _

I slowed, or at least, _tried _to slow down so I could make the left, but as I turned another painful pang sounded through my head and this time, I did go sprawling to the ground. A wave of vertigo hit me and the world tilted, the ground rushing up towards my face. Despite my delayed reflexes I still managed to put my hands out in front of me before I faceplanted. However, in the process, I scraped my hands, peeling off some skin and reopening some of the cuts I'd received last night from holding on to the stone wall. Also, my quick thinking did not prevent my knees from smashing into the pavement, nor did it prevent my right knee from skidding across the ground, creating a new painful wound.

Could I get an "_ouch"_? That was _so _going to leave a scar in the morning.

"_Ugh!_ Flippity! Flip! Flip! Flipping! Flip! Flippity! _Fidge!_" I muttered under my breath as I examined my knee, my accent suddenly becoming much more prominent in my pain and frustration. I let out a slight gasp as I applied pressure to the gash, a flash of fiery pain ripping through my knee and hand in the process. Tears leapt into my eyes, but I furiously swiped them away with my non-bloody hand. To my chagrin the bleeding didn't stop. I removed my hand, allowing myself to bleed freely, and wiped my hand on Jack's hoodie (sorry, Jack!).

Great, so now not only did I lose sight of Justin, but I was gushing out blood like I was in a horror movie. This was just amounting to the worst day ever—only losing to a day which held memory of an incident I wasn't telling _anyone_ dead or alive about.

I contemplated all my current options for what I should and could do next as I stood up, swaying slightly, and limped towards a bus stop bench. The pain in my leg was really starting to rival the pain in my head and as I mulled over my options, I realized that I really only had one or two completely plausible (in my totally sleep deprived mind) options.

I had no bus money so I couldn't bus home. Both my parents were at work today and neither of them really liked being called away from work. Not to mention that I wasn't in the mood to lie to them about how I'd received my injury especially since I'd been hiding a _lot _of stuff from them lately. Henry was at the Seaford Civic Center for an afterschool program so there was no baby-sitter to come pick me up. And Grace _still _hadn't texted me back (and neither had the vandals, thank _God!_) leading me to believe that her appointment still had yet to finish. So when it really came down to it, I only had two options and I decided to pick the latter since walking home wasn't exactly in my best interests.

I sighed and dialled the only phone number which could answer my cry for help and grate my whole damsel-in-distress pet peeve just a little bit more. "Hello? Jack? Yeah, it's me. Sorry for waking you, but I'm in some serious pain right now and I need a ride..._calm down, Jack! _You are _so _developing a Hero Complex..."

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><p>"Kim, you are an idiot."<p>

"Oh gee, thanks." I let out a low hiss as Jack applied pressure to my knee, the disinfectant burning like acid. It took all my restraint not to smack Jack's sturdy hands away from me. "That I know."

And that I really _did_ know since Jack had been dead set on embedding this little statement into my mind from the moment I'd arrived at his place.

When I'd finally managed to calm Jack down from the little panic attack he'd worked himself into after I'd told him that I was in pain by explaining what had actually happened, I'd asked Jack to ask his mother if she could pick me up and bring me to their place since we needed to talk. I mean, I'd just made a great advancement in the "vandals" case since the whole "Ricky-and-Rue" issue was still pretty murky. Thankfully, he'd obliged and his mother had raced over in a matter of seconds.

Now, Jack's mom was almost nothing like my own mom.

The woman drove over in a _Guns N' Roses _tee shirt and short shorts, looking less like she was about thirty and had a teenage son and more like a never-had-a-kid-before supermodel. I was not exaggerating. Ms. Brewer was absolutely _stunning_. If my mom ever dressed like that, I would probably have a heart attack since it would be so uncharacteristic of her. She was more of a pantsuit kind of gal, if you knew what I meant. To match her classy powersuit, my mom was also an awful lot more strict than Ms. Brewer, who was generally really flexible and easygoing.

But despite how laidback she was, Ms. Brewer had a certified "Mommy Fit" the minute she saw my knee and the blood gushing from it. In fact, I believe her reaction to my injury was much more severe than what my _own_ mom's would have been. It took me more than a while to calm her down and convince her that I didn't need to go to the emergency room for stitches (yet, anyway), but I eventually did. However, by the end of it, I was beginning to see the resemblance between her and Jack. Not only were they both really laidback, but they both spazzed out a _lot _when they were freaked out.

Jack sighed as his ironpress on my knee weakened. He looked up at me and I could see traces of his previous panic attack lingering in his eyes. "Show me your hands. I need to see if the cuts are deep. And I'm not kidding, Kim. What you did was a incredibly stupid. I mean, _come on_. You didn't _actually _call his name did you? That defies all laws of spydom. You should really watch some _James_ _Bond_."

I showed Jack my hands, palms up. "And you should watch your mouth, but whatever. I did what I had to do. Someone was taking pictures of me and coincidentally I saw one of our suspects. Besides, I told you that I wasn't thinking straight. Do you even listen to me when I speak?"

"Yes, actually, I do. I'll get you something for your head in a minute. But did Justin even have a camera on him?" Jack asked.

I thought back to my minor and very short lived chase with Justin. I couldn't recall him actually _having _a camera on him. I'd just seen him and decided to go after him, hoping to get some answers for his suspicious encounter with Jerry. "Well..." I started.

"See?" Jack used a cotton ball to smear disinfectant over my hands, rubbing _way_ too hard on them. It was as if he was getting revenge on me for chasing Justin or for his bloodied hoodie. I winced in pain and Jack gave me an apologetic look saying, "Sorry. I'm probably taking my stress out on your hands, right? I'll cool it. But really, Kim? You chase the guy and he doesn't even have a camera on him? Your police work is pretty shoddy."

"Stop being so critical!" I said indignantly. So maybe I did say that just a little bit more defensively than I probably should have, but I was _beyond _sick of Jack's judgmental remarks. "All you've been doing is criticizing me and it's really getting on my nerves! Everyone makes flipping mistakes so chill! So what if Justin didn't have a camera? His movements were quite similar to the movements of my stalker and the kid flipping ran when I just called his name. I mean, _suspicious much?_"

"Yeah, but did it ever occur to you that you could have been set up?" Jack shot back, his temper flaring just like mine was. "Last night someone was _stalking _you and they _failed _to catch you! Maybe Justin was sent back to lure you away or something! Maybe he was trying to lead you into some sort of trap!"

"A trap?" I repeated dubiously.

Jack nodded. "Yes, a _trap_. Did that ever occur to you?"

A _trap_? No, I hadn't even thought of that. I suddenly felt a little sick and it wasn't because the scent of the disinfectant was finally getting to me. What if Justin actually _had _been leading me into a trap? What would have happened? Would I have been captured or would I have been able to fight off my attackers? What if I'd been kidnapped or even worse—left for dead in some backalley?

I shook my head. Now I was being silly. For crying out loud, the people who were bugging us probably weren't any older than we were. They were probably about fourteen or fifteen like us. Sixteen at most, unless one of them happened to be Frank, then nineteen. There was _no_ way that they'd be capable of kidnapping or murdering us..._right? _

I glared at Jack defiantly, trying to shake all thoughts of the vandals physically attacking us out of my mind. "The vandals aren't trying to _kill _us, Jack. They are trying to _scare_ us and get revenge for whatever they think we did to them."

"Okay, so what do you think the vandal would have done if he or she had actually caught up to you last night?" Jack raised an eyebrow at me and folded his arms across his chest, waiting for my answer.

"I-I-I don't know." I admitted slowly and Jack gave me a triumphant look. How wonderfully arrogant of him. Ugh, that kid just steamed my clams sometimes.

"But I highly doubt they would have actually harmed me or anything..." I feigned certainty with my next statement, "They probably would have whispered some sort of creepy warning into my ear. Something similar in creepiness to the notes they left in our lockers."

Jack rolled his eyes and I let out another low hiss as he reapplied pressure to my knee. He gave me a sceptical look and said, "So, you're saying that if the vandal had caught up to you he or she would've whispered something bizarre in your ear and then would have left you alone?"

"Well, they weren't going to kill me!" I retorted, ignoring the fact that I'd thought that the vandal actually _was_ going to kill me last night.

"And what proves that?" Jack questioned, "They weren't afraid to invade our privacy, were they? They weren't afraid to break into the dojo and our bedrooms, were they? These people don't care about what they do unless they scare us so what makes you think they won't try to hurt us next?"

"Because they are flipping _kids, _Jack!" I exploded, "They are _our _age so no they are not trying to kill us! I wouldn't have died or have gotten hurt last night no matter how much you believe I would have! You are totally developing a _Hero Complex!_ No denying it now!"

"I do _not _have a _Hero Complex_." Jack whined in exasperation, "Like I said this morning, you are one of my best friends and I don't want _anything _to happen to you—I mean, my _friends_. Do you hear the "friend" part in "best friend"? Yeah, I think I reserve the right to worry about my friends and since we are friends I think I'm also allowed to worry about _you_."

There it was again, Jack's hinting "best friend" statement. It was the second time he'd used it today and this time around it was almost confirmed that there was something more behind it. Earlier I'd been silent, but now I wanted answers. A direct answer to what he was hinting at, why he always seemed upset when I mentioned Ricky, and why he thought Donna's legs looked better than mine...wait, _what?_ I was going to blame that random thought on the fact that I barely got any sleep last night...

But before I could call him out on his statement, Jack began speaking again.

"And," He added, looking down at the blood stain on his hoodie, "as a best friend, Kim, I think you owe me a new hoodie."

I wanted to say something really snarky or sarcastic or rude to Jack, but I was cut off by the buzz of my phone. Irritated that my "sarcastic remark" opportunity was ruined, I just motioned for Jack to give me my phone. Jack handily picked up my phone, ignoring the bloody fingerprints I'd left on it, and checked to see who was texting me (checking to see if it was Ricky, Jack?). I watched as Jack's brow furrowed slightly and then he looked up at me, an ominous look crossing his face. Before I could even ask who'd texted me, Jack said, "You have a picture message from an _unknown number_."

I froze when I heard those words. The unknown number _again?_ What the heck did they want now? They hadn't messaged me since I'd chased Justin down the street. Jack shot me an uneasy look. "Should I open it or...?"

I bobbed my head up and down, sounding a little frantic as I said, "Open it. Open it right _now_."

Jack could hear the urgency in my voice and did as he was told like an obedient little puppy. Jack quickly got up from the ground and sat next to me on his bed, allowing me to look over his shoulder as he scrolled through the pictures with all our previous tension immediately dissolving. We were so close to one another that I was practically breathing down his neck and I could feel his fever-heat radiating from his body.

The first couple pictures were of Milton and Eddie. The two were talking and laughing at _Falafel_ _Phil's_, blissfully unaware that someone was photographing their every move. The next couple pictures were of Jerry. He was being smacked with a purse by some old lady in the first pictures and then he was chased by an old man with a cane in the later ones, ending with him falling into the duck pond at the park. Had it not been creepy that some stranger was secretly photographing him, I would have laughed at Jerry's pictures. They were just so..._him_.

"Someone is photographing them." Jack said quietly.

I looked up at him in disbelief. Captain Obvious, much? I was just about to vocalize my opinion of the obviousness of his statement when my phone buzzed again, a little message appearing. I'd received another picture message.

Jack and I exchanged a worried glance as he opened the new message, both of us waiting in wary apprehension for the images we knew we were going to see. And as expected, the new pictures were of no one other than us. There were much more pictures of Jack and I than there were of Milton, Eddie and Jerry. Thankfully, there were no pictures of my embarrassing fall, however, there were photos of pretty much every moment of our minor (to say the least) disagreement and that wasn't even the creepy part. The creepy part was that there were pictures of us, right at this _second _as we were looking at the photos. It was like they were just live-streaming our photos to my phone, but I wasn't even sure how they were doing it. Jack _had _said he'd been unable to find any vid-cams in his room, after all..._hold on a second._

"Wait a minute..." Jack looked at me, his eyes slowly widening, "If there's no surveillance cameras in here then that means..."

Realization hit me and I suddenly wished it hadn't. "That someone is just outside your window..." I breathed.

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><p><strong>* AN * **

**Hello my dearest readers. I can't even describe with all the adjectives in the world how sorry I am for not updating this story for almost two weeks. I was having a really tough time writing this chapter in fact, it was supposed to be even longer but I cut it in half so next chapter should be a literal continuation of this one. This chapter was probably the most frustrating to write and it was also the one which strayed away from my notes the most. Half the stuff I put into my notes didn't even make it into this chapter but I promise you it should be in the next one. You guys don't even know how many times I rewrote and revised this chapter. I believe I did it 4 flipping times just to get it like this and I'm still uncertain of how it turned out. Maybe I should post all the different versions of this just so you guys can see how hard I worked on this one. Haha**

**And onto lighter news, I have three more FanFic ideas and I have their titles but I won't post them today so I can keep this A/N a little bit shorter.**

**So onto what went on this chapter, so not only did Kim receive a locker note but Jack and Milton did as well. Funny since Eddie and Jerry didn't receive any locker notes. Does that mean that no one was watching them or something else? No surveillance cameras in Jack's room..._apparently_. Justin seems a little bit suspicious doesn't he now? I wonder why he ran away from Kim... Jack and Kim will also run into someone when they go outside next chapter and only you can guess who.**

**And teehee, things really are heating up between Jack and Kim aren't they? I think I rewrote their scene 2 or 3 times before I got this one. I kind of liked the idea of the both of them arguing because they were so stressed out and not because they were actually mad at each other. Also, if you've watched the show, ticked!Jack _is _kinda hot. Anywho, as you noticed, Donna Tobin is anything _but _a total biznatch in my FanFic. In the original Donna-Kim conversation Donna was a total witch with a capital B but I changed it since there are lots of FanFics which portray Donna (and Heather as well) as some homewrecker and I didn't want to do that because, mostly, I never imagined Donna (or Heather) as biznatches (unlike that Margaret chic...). So instead I let Kim's grumpiness and negativity shine to contrast Donna's kindness.**

**Haha, did anyone notice that Kim used the word 'flidge.' And Milton said it wouldn't catch on...haha. Oh yeah, and fun fact: Kim's french braid from last chapter was a bit of a throwback to Donna Tobin's in the TV show. I'm hoping we get to see _Meet the Cheat _soon.**

**I guess that's all for now!**

**Love you all dearly, _ALPHA! _**

**PS: So who do you think is going to be outside?**

**PPS: You can still guess the plot twister!**

**PPPS: Go read _The GAME _if you haven't already! It's a murder mystery so be prepared for something a little (or a lot, depending on how you roll) creepier than this FanFic! It's rated T for a reason.**


	10. Chapter 9

*** A/N ***

**Hey! It's Alpha again with my 'Kickin' It' FanFic. Like before there's a longer A/N at the bottom of the story so please R&R**

**It's HERE! It's finally HERE! Here is chapter 9 of Vandals Anonymous! SQUEEEEE! Well, this is more of a part 1 than anything else. I was a little over 7000 words when I decided that this chapter was going to be WAY too long if I decided to post it all in one sitting. It would be 10 000 words plus so I split it in half so it's about 5000 plus without the A/N. So, due to the split, the mentioned cliffies aren't present and Kim's phone type isn't present. It will be said in the second part. I'll post the second part ASAP. Hope you guys don't mind...**

**Anyway, DISCLAIMER, DISCLAIMER! I do _not _(read: do _NOT_) own Disney XD's Kickin' It**

* * *

><p>* <strong><span>KIMBERLY CRAWFORD<span>** *

"_Wait a minute..." Jack looked at me, his eyes slowly widening, "If there's no surveillance cameras in here then that means..."_

_Realization hit me and I suddenly wished it hadn't. "That someone is just outside your window..." I breathed._

We both turned our heads to look at the window, the one on the right of Jack's balcony which exposed the two of us to the outside world.

Exposed us to the _vandal_.

I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate, but I forced myself to calm down. Having a panic attack wasn't going to help either of us or my severe migraine.

My realization had plunged us into an indefinite silence. It was the kind that hung thick and heavy in the air like an old musty curtain. I wasn't sure what Jack was thinking, but I had an uncanny feeling that he was thinking the exact same thing that I was. I was wondering who was outside the window. It was an honest and simple question which could easily change the whole "vandals" case depending on whether or not someone was actually outside and who was out there if there was.

Personally, I believed that the person outside was Justin since his innocence had become increasingly questionable these last two days. The whole "Suspicious Dufflebag" thing from yesterday and the whole "Run-Run-Runaway-Runaway Baby" thing from today had Justin skyrocket to the top of the suspect list alongside Rue and Ricky with Truman going down on the list due to his rather sincere denial.

Jack and I simultaneously turned to look back at one another and I flinched slightly when I realized just how close to one another we really were. If I'd thought that we'd been really close to one another before when I'd practically been breathing down his neck, then I was wrong. Now, our noses were only an inch or two away from touching and I could smell traces of peppermint on Jack's breath. A sliver of hurt sliced through me when Jack moved away from me, his cheeks (as well as mine) heating up, but I ignored it.

This wasn't the time to confront my feelings or whatever. There were more important things to worry about such as the fact a person was taking photos of us just outside Jack's window. Yet, with this in mind, I couldn't help but to subconsciously wonder if Jack had moved away from me because my breath smelled funny. I barely resisted the urge to do a breath-check.

Jack cleared his throat awkwardly. "So what do you want to do?"

I stopped thinking about my breath and looked down at my phone (whose inbox was blowing up with picture messages), then up at Jack's ginormous bedroom window (which was wide-open with the curtains moving slightly due to a light breeze), before settling my eyes on Jack once again. His dark eyes mirrored mine, reflecting fear among other emotions.

It felt a little strange seeing Jack so, I don't know, _scared_. I mean, usually he was so cocky and full of it. He was always teasing me about having a crush on him or something but now...

"What do you want to do?" Jack repeated, this time, with a little more certainty.

"What do I want to do?" I asked, making sure that I kept my voice just as low as Jack's. If the vandals were watching us then what were the odds that they were also listening to us? "I think we should, um, check outside to see if, you know, they're really there."

Jack nodded slowly. "Okay...so do you want us to check from up here or...?"

"I think," I said slowly, struggling to gather my thoughts since they kept on fleeing at every painful pang. "I think that we should both go outside and check, but we should split up while doing it."

Jack looked at me, his eyes bright with alarm as he said, "Say _what _now?"

"I said we should spl—"

"I got that!" Jack snapped, his voice raising an octave. I motioned for him to tone it down and he obliged, leaning in so he could whisper to me. I could feel his breath in my ear and it was making me feel all tingly and ticklish. I bit my lip to prevent myself from giggling as he whispered, "Are you _crazy? _I'm not kidding. Are you actually _insane? _Your headache must be seriously affecting your judgement since that is the worst idea you've had yet!"

"Well, what else can we do?" I hissed, frustrated that once again, Jack was insulting my ideas. "If we go together, it will be obvious that we are going to check up on the vandal and the vandal will bolt. We _have _to separate."

Jack shook his head. "No, we don't. Number one rule of horror movies? _Never _split up!"

"I know that and I may be new to your rules of "spydom", but isn't one of the rules "do anything to make yourself seem inconspicuous"?" I retorted, "I smell some Hero Complex here. You don't care about the fact that we're splitting up. You're just worried that something will happen to me."

Jack ignored my statement, not even bothering to deny that he really did have a Complex. "We aren't real spies, Kim."

"And we aren't in a horror movie, Jack. Nothing will happen to me. I promise."

Jack was silent for a moment, considering what I'd said, before he slowly nodded his head in agreement. "Fine. You're right. My mom's home and it's light outside. What's the worse they can do in broad daylight?"

I decided not to bring up one of the many _Datelines _I'd watched.

"But _I'm _going outside if we really _are_ splitting up. Not _you_." Jack said firmly, looking down at my phone—which was _still_ being flooded with picture messages—before looking back up at me. "I'll be the hook and you'll be the bait. Wait around the window and try—"

I moved away from Jack and glared at him. "Wow, _way_ to set the feminist movement back about fifty years." I scoffed.

Jack looked confused. "What? You still have the right to vote—that's right, I _did _pay attention in History."

I rolled my eyes. "Who cares? It didn't prevent you from making the most sexist decision ever! In PE, Jerry learned how to tie his shoes, but he _still_ trips over his own feet!"

"Okay, so what made my decision so sexist?" Jack asked.

"_I'm_ the _bait_ and _you're_ the _hook_? That, my friend, is sexist and it _reeks _of your obvious Complex. I don't need you protecting me twenty-four seven and I'm perfectly capable of catching the vandal so why don't _you _be the _bait_? Unless you think I'm going to emasculate you or something." I was unable to hide my annoyance with Jack. Why wouldn't the kid just admit he had a problem already? Admittance _was _the first step to recovery, after all.

Jack rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Kim, I wasn't trying to be sexist when I said that, okay! Like I said not even ten minutes ago, we are _best friends _and all the best friends I know look out for each other! I don't have a _Complex_ I was just being a _friend_. I just thought it would be easier for you to stay here because of your headache and, well, you know." Jack motioned towards my knee. "If you don't want stitches then you should be—"

"Hey Superman, calm down!" I snapped. I was beginning to have a hard time keeping my voice low. "Unlike Lois Lane, _I _can actually last more than two seconds without almost dying! I'm _not_ damaged goods! Anyway, what's with you constantly bringing up the fact we're _BFFs? _Okay, we're friends, but it always seems like you're hinting—"

"_Kim!_" Jack hissed my name, "We don't have _time _for this! If you want to go then _fine_. Just go before they catch on to what we're doing and bolt. They've been at it for a long time and I have a feeling that they're going to stop soon."

"Fine!" I hissed back, "Don't get your boxers in a twist."

Jack glared at me and said flatly, "You've seen my boxers. They're _not _in a twist."

I could feel my cheeks heating up at the memory even though I was begging for them to cool down. I was really starting to hate this kid.

I scowled and stood up quickly, too quickly. I winced at the pain that seared up and down the length of my leg. My head pounded even harder and the world swayed crazily like I was on one of those nauseating carnival rides. The type of rides that Jack and I would go on over and over again until we almost threw up our corndogs, all the while ignoring Jerry's "WOOO's", Milton's shrieks, and Eddie's screams.

I almost immediately collapsed back onto Jack's bed, but somehow I remained standing, although I struggled not to keel over at every pang. I wasn't going to give Jack the satisfaction of being right knowing that I should have stayed here and he should have gone.

I closed my eyes for a couple seconds and took a few deep breaths, the Little Blue Engine's slogan flashing through my mind again. When I reopened my eyes, the world had stopped swaying (for the most part) and the pain in my leg had lessened to a much less painful throb. Before Jack could even speak, I raised a hand to shut him up. "Don't say _anything._"

Jack defied my order. "You should take something with you to defend yourself."

"Sorry dad, but I left my pepper spray at home." I said sarcastically, "There is nothing in here that I can use. I can't smack someone over the head with a skateboard or a MacBook Air. Come on, get real! And _don't _start on how you should come with me because I don't have a weap—"

"Okay, okay, just _go_." Jack started shooing me away and I stumbled forward, "We're wasting valuable time here and by now, they're probably gone anyway. If you hurry though, you might see their great escape. It will make this case a _lot _easier if we knew what kind of bike or whatever the vandal is using."

I turned, shooting Jack a perplexed look. "Wait! What—!?"

_SLAM!_

I groaned in annoyance. It was too late. Jack had already closed his bedroom door in my face. How kind of him to almost clip my nose. Yay me—cue the sarcasm. I _still _hadn't received my pain reliever and Jack hadn't even bothered to give me my phone before shoving me out of the room. What if I needed back up or something? How was I supposed to contact him?

Ugh, whatever. I didn't need Jack's help to take down the vandal. I mean, I _was_ a black belt for a reason. Although, I was willing to admit that it was a lot more difficult to take someone down when you were practically limping and half blind thanks to a migraine.

Darn. Now that I'd thought about it, I _was_ damaged goods, wasn't I?

I shook the ever so negative thought out of my mind. Like Donna had said, I was about as unstoppable as Kim Possible and I was a very capable person. No matter how much pain I was in, I could suffer through it. That was how I rolled.

Grace was always complaining about how my pride got in the way of things and she was right. My pride often did get in the way of things, but this time instead of hindering me, it was helping me and I needed all the help I could get.

I put on my "game face" and raced outside, ignoring the pain that shot through my body and the exhaustion that came with it because like Jack said, we really _were _wasting time.

* * *

><p>I tentatively stepped off the patio, the world tilting slightly as my socked feet sunk into the lush grass. It was bright outside and the light was seriously hurting my eyes and head. Like, it actually <em>burned<em> to be out here. Now I knew what it was like to be a vampire and had whole new level of respect for Dracula. The sun really _did _kill.

Shielding my eyes with my hand and squinting against the light, I quickly moved across the lawn to the other side of the monster mansion where Jack's bedroom window—and hopefully the vandal—was.

Jack and his mom had moved in with his grandfather roughly a year or two ago. The old man had welcomed his youngest daughter and his grandson home with open arms when their money troubles became too much for them (and Ms. Brewer finally shelved her pride and allowed her father to help her out, according to Jack). While most people would have been slightly worried about having a few extra guests around, Old Man Brewer was not. Having been Bobby Wasabi's sensei, he had raked in a whole ton of cash. You could see it not only by the clean way he dressed, but also by the size of his house.

The first time I went over to Jack's house I was shocked mostly because it wasn't a _house_, but rather a huge, multi-million dollar _mansion_. It was two levels with an attic big enough to serve as a third floor, a huge basement and several bedrooms and bathrooms. Heck, this place even had a swimming pool and the patio was _enormous_.

Jack's house was, like, my dream home and I hoped that one day I would be able to afford a house as awesome as this one. Perhaps after I'd won a lawsuit against the vandals once we'd captured them? This was California. You could get over one thousand dollars from suing someone for nicking your car bumper. Well, not exactly, but you understood what I meant.

I slowed as I approached Jack's window, trying not to alert the vandal of my presence, and moved closer to the side mansion. I felt like a total creeper as I crept alongside the outerwall, remembering that time in sixth grade when Grace and I had decided to stalk the guy we both had a crush on, Dean Cheswick. Creeping around his house in all-black attire, Grace and I had both crept up to his bedroom window and had watched him sleep, giggling maniacally as we photographed him...until we got caught of course.

Thinking back, what Grace and I had done was pretty stupid. I mean, it got us grounded for three weeks and Dean thought we were total freaks for the rest of sixth grade. Yet here I was again, creeping around another boy's home, although this time it was for a _completely_ different reason (and not to mention, a completely different time of day). This time I wasn't just doing it for my own personal gain, but for the sake of others as well.

I struggled to keep my nerves in check as Jack's window drew closer. I had _no_ idea what was going to happen when I actually got there. Would the vandal try to escape? Would the vandal attack? Would the vandal even _be _there? All these thoughts were racing through my mind and they weren't helping me calm down in the slightest. Actually, they were making me antsy with fear and paranoia—a really bad mix of emotions when you were trying _not _to hyperventilate.

Finally shoving back my mess of emotions, I tilted my head upwards, grimacing at the loud pangs which were echoing through my head, glaring into the intertwined branches of the large tree just outside Jack's window. I was certain that if anywhere, the vandals were hiding in that tree. It would be so much easier to hide incognito in the tree than on Jack's balcony.

I moved away from the mansion and crept closer to the tree, trying to see if the shadow up above really was a person or just some overweight squirrel. It was really hard to see with the sunlight intensifying my headache, each pound blurring my eyesight a little more than the last. Ugh, I needed an Advil _now! _

I jumped when the leaves rustled. It was abnormally loud as if something big had caused the branches to move as opposed to a small bird or squirrel. I watched as a large amount of leaves cascaded down onto the grass. That was weird. All the fallen leaves seemed healthy and strong, not the type to fall unless it was ripped off the tree.

As I got closer, something else plummeted from the tree. It was a small, white compact object—a folded piece of paper?

My assumption was right. I gingerly picked up the piece of paper, quickly unfolding it as I squinted into the leaves. I still couldn't see anything or anyone up there. I was either dealing with a ninja or a human-sized chameleon because there was no way someone could hide _this _well in a tree and I wasn't even going to acknowledge the possibility that no one was up there. No way in _heck_.

I groaned in frustration. If only I could climb into the tree then things would be a little easier, but naturally I couldn't. Well, not with speed no thanks to my knee. Maybe I wasn't as capable as I'd claimed and maybe I _should_ have let Jack do this instead of me. His knees were fine and he wasn't delirious yet so he may have been able to clamber up into the tree to check if the vandal was up there. Whatever.

I peered at down at the tiny note, now groaning in annoyance alongside my initial frustration. The writing was tiny, barely legible, and I had to squint to read it ultimately causing me _more _pain. I swore the whole "vandals" thing was solely set up to cause me as much pain as possible—and fear. I was pretty sure that the whole thing was also set up to stir up as much fear within me since my hair stood up on end when I read the note: _Look behind you..._

What the heck was that supposed to m—?

A hand clamped down on my shoulder, tight so I couldn't escape.

_Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!_

On instinct, I screamed at the top of my lungs (probably alarming the whole neighbourhood). On reflex, I flipped the person. I staggered back from the slumped body in sheer terror. Oh my God, what the _heck_ was going on? I looked up into the trees as the branches moved frantically. It was obvious that whoever was up there was trying to make an escape while I was "distracted".

I wasn't sure of what to do. Currently, I could only go after one person at a time. I couldn't do both, not on my own at least. I prayed that Jack had heard me scream and would magically materialize beside me, but that was just wishful thinking. No matter what Jack thought, he wasn't superman so there was no way he'd be here in time to "save the world" or whatever. Ugh! This was _exactly_ why I needed my phone!

In the end, I chose the fallen soldier since I knew that my chances of capturing the fleeing soldier were low. This person seemed very fast and extremely skilled solely based on their current movements. If my knee hadn't been killing me I probably would have been able to keep up, but unfortunately for me, my knee _was _killing me and like Jack probably would have said if I hadn't cut him off, if I didn't want stitches then I had to take it easy(ish).

Great. Once again, Jack was right and I was wrong. Yay for me. I should have let Jack chase the vandal while I stayed inside as the "bait" regardless of how sexist his decision sounded.

Grace was right. My pride solely existed to undermine all my potential success.

Forcing back my increasing frustration with being unable to catch the fleeing person, I tentatively walked forward with wary apprehension, ready to fight back if the vandal jumped up at me. I cleared my throat and faked assertiveness as I said, "Who are you?"

The body stirred. "Ugh...Kim?"

My jaw dropped in shock at the all too familiar voice. "_Ricky?_"

"Hey there," Ricky groaned and rolled over to face me, giving me a small smile. "You seem to toss me around a lot. Is flipping people what you do to friends or...?"

"I only flip people who tick me off or scare the crud out of me!" I quickly helped Ricky onto his feet and brushed him down, removing the stray pieces of grass from his clothes. "Oh my _God, _Ricky! What _are _you doing here? How did you find me? And why are you wearing all black? I thought you were a v—" I abruptly stopped speaking and narrowed my eyes at him. I'd almost told Ricky about the vandals. Was that what he'd been trying to do? Try to get me to confirm that I actually _was_ looking for the people who'd vandalised the dojo which potentially included him?

Even if that wasn't his goal, I couldn't directly tell Ricky about the vandals anyway. It was supposed to be a secret—sort of. I couldn't tell my parents, my brother, my best friend or my favourite teacher so there was no way in _heck _that I was going to tell an international pop sensation like Ricky Weaver that I was being stalked and watched. I was also supposed to be all vague and inconspicuous when I questioned Ricky anyway.

Ricky smiled at me innocently, brushing back a strand of hair that had escaped my French braid. "Who did you think I was?"

I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. I wasn't sure of what to say.

"Kim! _Kim!_" Ricky and I both turned around with me letting out a silent sigh of relief for the minor distraction. My relief was short-lived, however, when I realized what exactly was going to happen next. Jack came running towards us, worry written all over his face. In a couple seconds, he'd see Ricky and I had a feeling all heck would break loose.

"Kim! Are you alright? I heard you scream and I came out here as fast as I could! I told you that I shouldn't—" He abruptly stopped speaking when he noticed Ricky, slowing down to a walk as well. It was obvious that Jack was struggling to remain nonchalant about the sudden appearance of Ricky. I could see it in his face. Even if Ricky was oblivious to Jack's tight lipped expression, I wasn't.

Jack's voice hardened, "What are _you _doing here?"

"Jack—"

Jack didn't even let Ricky finish speaking. "Kim, can I talk to you for a minute..." He fixed his gaze on Ricky. "..._Alone?_"

Ricky looked from me to Jack and back again before nodding. "Sure."

"Thanks," I said, allowing Jack to drag me away from the boy.

Once we were a considerable distance away from Ricky, Jack asked "what is _he _doing here?" as loudly as he could _without _Ricky hearing him. Sure Ricky knew we were talking about him (I mean, it _was _pretty obvious and if he didn't know then that would mean he was pretty flipping dumb), but regardless of whether he knew that he was our topic of discussion or not, Ricky didn't actually need to know what exactly we were saying.

"Kim, what is _he_ doing here?" Jack repeated, this time with more edge to his voice.

I shrugged. "I don't know! I have _no _idea why Ricky's here!"

"Well, was he the one that was watching us?" Jack questioned.

I shook my head slowly. "No, well, I don't think so. There was something up in that tree." I turned and pointed back to the tree behind Ricky. "I'm pretty sure that there was a person up there, but whoever it was is gone now."

"Gone?"

"Yeah," Jack gazed at me quizzically and I blushed, "I'll explain later. The important thing is that if Ricky _is_ involved, then he'd probably be an accomplice as opposed to the person leading this whole thing."

"So, Dollhair would be, like, _Rue's _accomplice?" Jack asked.

"Or Justin's," I added, "Both are looking pretty suspicious right now...and his name is _Ricky!_"

For the second time today, I was feeling defensive of Ricky and I still wasn't exactly sure why. I was _really_ hoping that the fact that he'd confessed or "confessed" his love for me wasn't affecting my whole view on him. He was supposed to be a crim—I mean, _suspect_. I wasn't supposed to sympathise with him and yet I was. But in my defence, Jack's attitude towards the kid wasn't helping.

"Kim, you _know _that I'm _never _going to call that guy anything other than "Dollhair" so give it up." Jack said flatly.

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, _seriously? _What's with all the Ricky hate? You didn't seem to hate him so much when he got Beyonce and Jay-Z to sign your barf bag!"

"Well, that was before I discovered that he was a private-jet-flying-San-Francisco-burger-buying-hot -tubing-dollhaired monster!"

"Wha—? _Again_ with the word salad?" I shook my head. "Look, I don't care if you're jealous of him—"

"I'm _not _jealous." Jack's voice cracked.

"—_jealous _of him, or jealous of the fact that I had a shrine of _him_ in my locker instead of a shrine of _you_, or that you're just cranky because you aren't feeling well and you barely got any sleep last night, or that you think that _he's_ the vandal. You are going to _pretend_ to respect him enough to use his _name_." I hissed, "Got it?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Yes, mommy. I'll call the nice boy _Ricky_. Gosh Kim. Controlling much?"

"It's what I do best." I replied snarkily.

Jack was being extraordinarily irritating today. Either that or I was just extraordinarily quick tempered due to my sleep deprivation. I think it was a mixture of both with a little more quick temperedness. It was really obvious now that when I was tired, I was overemotional and kind of mean.

Maybe I was being too hard on Jack. He was my best friend (aside from Grace and Milton, of course) and friends always had one another's back no matter what. I actually should have been grateful that he came over that night the vandals were in my house despite the fact that he initially didn't believe me about the thumping. I don't think that Milton would have done that and Grace probably would have just hung up on me the minute she heard I was watching a scary movie.

It was pretty sweet that he cared about me and I thought it was kind of adorable the way he was so protective of me, but that didn't mean he had to protect me _all _the darn time and let his Complex get the best of him. As I told him before, prior to the whole "Ricky" debacle, I _could _take care of myself—for the most part.

I struggled to keep my expression cool as I stalked back to Ricky, but of course Ricky immediately noticed my irritation due to the fact that my face was like an open-book—I kept my emotions very obvious. I watched as Ricky visibly tensed up, preparing himself for the terror he thought I was about to unleash upon him.

"Ricky," I snapped, "What are _you _doing here?"

A smile slowly spread across Ricky's face, contrasting my scowl and Jack's sullen frown. "I came to see you, Kim."

Was it wrong that I was more freaked out than flattered? I glanced at Jack (who was finally making his way over to me and Ricky) hoping to exchange an alarmed look with him, but he wasn't even looking in my direction (heck, I didn't even know _what_ he was looking at) so I kept my alarmed look to myself and asked, "How did you find me?"

"I tracked your phone." Ricky said simply.

Jack's eyes immediately snapped onto Ricky's face. That statement had certainly caught his attention. His eyes visibly widened. "_What _did you say? How are you tracking Kim's phone?"

Ricky let out a soft laugh. "Please. I'm Ricky Weaver, international singing sensation. I have my ways. It comes with the fame, the cash, the girls..." Ricky's eyes flickered onto my face. "...but there's only one girl that I want."

I self-consciously took a step back from Ricky, but he took a step towards me in turn. I shot Jack another look of alarm, practically begging him for help, but he didn't even notice. He was too busy shooting daggers at Ricky to help his "damsel-in-distress".

"Um Ricky..." I motioned for Ricky to give me some personal space, but the kid didn't take the hint. Instead, he moved even closer and tried reaching for my hand, but just as I'd done yesterday, I snatched my hand away.

But _unlike_ yesterday, Ricky remained unfazed by me moving my hand away. "Kim, I wasn't lying to you yesterday. I swear on my life that this isn't a set-up either. Kim Crawford, I really _do _like you and I honestly regret the way I treated you—and all the other girls, for that matter."

Britney's _Womanizer _started playing through my mind but I quickly shut it off before I got too carried away.

I folded my arms and fixed my eyes on Ricky, giving him a steely glare.

"Did you give the other girls the same speech about liking them when you "apologized"?" I snapped.

Ricky's eyes widened almost guiltily and a smile played on Jack's lips. Jack's almost-smile gave me a little confidence boost and I continued on, "Look, I'm not an idiot. I know as well as the next person that you don't actually like me and that you probably used the same speech on the ten thousand other girls you chose. Heck, I'm pretty sure that you also used that line on _Rue_."

Ricky sighed. "Kim, _nothing _went on between me and that girl you keep referring to. I'm being honest here. She was just a fan and asked to get an autograph so I gave it to her. There is no relation between us."

"Just like there's no relation between you and those ten thousand other girls?" Jack asked sceptically, "Got it."

Ricky let out another long sigh and started reaching for my hand, but he thought better of it and dropped his hand. Good boy. You'd learned well. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair and said firmly, "There is _no _relation between me and the other girls or between me and Rue. Kim, I apologized to all the other girls—"

"Publicity stunt," Jack "coughed" and I "sneezed" in agreement.

Ricky ignored us. "I apologized to all those girls for what I did...in _person_...and although Rue...um...well...made me an _offer..._I...I turned her down." Ricky gazed at me, his eyes wide with sincerity. "I did this all for you, Kim. I wanted you to forgive me for what I did. I wanted you to give me another chance. However, I felt that if I wanted you to forgive me, then I had to get the other girls to forgive me and to do that I needed to tell them the truth. It was the most...um..._difficult_ experience of my life, but at the end of it all, it gave me some inner peace."

"Uh, I think you've been spending too much time with your guru. "Inner peace"? _Really_? And you sound like you're reading from a script. Did your publicist write this?" Jack raised an eyebrow at Ricky and I covered my mouth with my hand to hide my smile. Jack's snarky comments were the only thing keeping me totally sane right now since I was having trouble keeping my revulsion with Ricky as his love confession went on. Did he honestly do all this...for _me?_

Again, Ricky ignored Jack's words, keeping his eyes on me, "Look Kim, if you and Jack, you know, _don't _have a "thing", then I'd like you to give me another chance. _Please_."

Whoa. Just whoa. My jaw dropped at the small (ha, understatement of the year) bombshell. I searched Ricky's face for signs of a lie or a prank or anything that would mark his confession as a total sham, but I couldn't find anything. Not a single thing. Great. Now I had a _real_ decision to make. I had to decide whether or not to be the one to give Ricky an "achy, breaky heart". Either way, I had a feeling either decision would land me on the front cover of _CELEBstar_.

Both Jack and Ricky gazed at me expectantly, eagerly waiting for my answer, and I felt like a deer in the headlights. I didn't know what to do. My mind swirled (and gosh, my head was _killing_ me). If it had been yesterday I would have immediately turned him down, my disgust with his piggish past highlighting my decision, but now...

No. No! No! No! No! No! _No!_ No, this kid was a total fraud (and he probably lip-synced too). He was a cheating, lying jerk! Or to borrow from Jack, Ricky was a private-jet-flying-San-Francisco-burger-buying-hot -tubing-dollhaired monster! I wasn't supposed to feel anything for this jerk! Besides, he was still a potential suspect..._right? _

"Kim?" Ricky peered down at me, "Kimberly?"

"I'm sorry, Ricky, but Jack and I are in a-a-a-a relationship!"

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><p><strong>* AN * **

**AHHHHH! Sorry for taking so long but like I'm always saying, I've been working on other stories. In fact, I have a new one up for Kickin' It. It's called 'Paging Aisle 3.' Go check it out! **

**Anyway, I hope that you guys enjoyed this chapter and are you surprised that Ricky's back? I'm not sure why I wrote him in but I guess we needed a little drama right? So Ricky's back and Kim just told him that she and Jack are together. Jack and Ricky have pretty interesting reactions next chapter and neither of them are the most..._positive._ Hmmm...**

**So Kim _did _see someone or something up in the tree but who or what is it? Is it someone (or something) we know or...?**

**Haha, put in some more Jack/Kim banter because writing that stuff is fun and they both seem like the type to argue over nothing. I _can _write full on fluffy scenes filled with romance and what not but I prefer friendships with (heavy) romantic undertones. Love-Hate isn't my thing either.**

**In this part alone I think I've made references to almost every chapter I've previously written and haha, did you guys like my reference to the 'Ricky Weaver' episode? I try to make as many references as possible, even in the AU stories I'm writing. The second half will include even _more _references to past chapters among other things. **

**Anywho, next chapter you learn that Jack and Kim have fake-dated before, Jack tells Kim she's awesome and amazing, Kim suggests that Jack's the guy for her, Kim also suggests that Jack's been stress-baking, Jack's mom mentions 'spooning', Milton calls in and Kim gets some interesting info and Jack gets the surprise of his life from an unexpected visitor.**

**That's all for now.**

**You know you love me, ALPHA**

**PS: ******* 'Paging Aisle 3' is up so go check it out NOW! ***********

**PPS: I'm DYING here! I need more Kickin' It! The next episode isn't supposed to come out for a while now (Oct. 24th!) and it's apparently called 'Boo Gi Nights'. It's probably that episode Olivia was referring to in an interview where she said that they were decked out in 80s (70s?) gear and she had a huge 'fro or whatever. ARGGGG! Seems like 'Meet the Cheat' is out as in nonexistent. Oh well. Justin's still here though in my FanFic.**

**PPPS: Hey, so can you guys get me to 150 reviews? Please? I will still post regardless of whether or not I reach my goal but it will be nice to have 150 reviews by my Birthday next week so I'm just asking.**

**PPPPS: Next chapter will be THE big celebration in honour of my 10th chapter just so y'all know. I'm so stoked and I'll mention some of my closest FanFic friends and MAYBE the stories I'm reading right now (not too sure yet since I read a LOT). YAY!**


	11. Chapter 10

*** A/N * **

**Hey! It's Alpha again with my 'Kickin' It' FanFic. Like before there's a longer A/N at the bottom of the story so please R&R...anons included**

**IT'S HERE! THE OFFICIAL TENTH CHAPTER OF VANDALS ANONYMOUS IS FINALLY HERE! AHHHH!**

**I'm SO sorry for not updating in almost a month. I hope you ALL forgive me! But in this one month hiatus I managed to update "The GAME" and "Paging Aisle 3" so go check those two stories out if you haven't already.**

**Anyway, DISCLAIMER, DISCLAIMER! I do _not _(read: do _NOT_) own Disney XD's Kickin' It**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER UPDATED 0425/13. A/N REMAINS UNUPDATED.**

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><p>* <strong><span>KIMBERLY CRAWFORD<span>** *

"_I'm sorry, Ricky, but Jack and I are in a-a-a-a relationship!"_

There.

I'd said it. I'd lied.

A strange look crossed Jack's face as a startled choking sound escaped him and a surprised look crossed Ricky's face just seconds before it fell...again.

"We're _what?_" Jack asked incredulously at the same time Ricky asked forlornly, "You _are_?"

Just like yesterday, Ricky looked as if I'd drop-kicked his puppy and the look led to the re-emergence of the guilt I'd briefly felt yesterday.

I swallowed hard as the wave of guilt overcame me, my stomach flipping in its place.

Also just like yesterday, guilt was the very _last _emotion I wanted to experience. Ricky looked so devastated and heartbroken that I immediately felt bad for lying to him even though I didn't want to feel bad.

Ricky _had_ hurt me _first _so my lie was justified, right? I mean, technically, I was letting him off easy since I wasn't telling him to buzz off because I hated him (like I probably should have considering that it was the truth), _right?_

I suppressed a frustrated groan. Ugh! Why couldn't I be heartless like my _mom_ was seventy percent of the darn time? I was a _Crawford_ for crying out loud! I was supposed to be (somewhat) emotionless!

Jack shot me a "what the _heck _did you _just _say?" look and I shot him an "I'm _actually begging _you to go along with this and I _never _beg because I—just like you—have pride issues! Please, _please_, puh-_leez_!" look. I mean, this wasn't the first time we'd pretended to be a couple...

The first time we'd faked it was when these creepy foreign twins had tried to come onto us.

Now, I wasn't going to lie. The guy was _hot,_ but he was just a little too _sparkly _and a little too _flamboyant_ for my taste. I also wasn't a big fan of the fact that he hung out with his twin sister all the time. His sister was gorgeous (I couldn't lie about that) and she was every bit as sparkly and colourful as her brother. Unfortunately, though, she was also a _much_ meaner than her brother. Do you know how many times she insulted me, my hair, or my clothes? More times than I'd care to share.

At first I was able to ignore his sparkle fixation (and his sister's bratty attitude) among other things, but the minute he offered me fifteen goats for a first date I knew I had to escape.

So I asked Jack to pretend to be my boyfriend. At first, I was surprised that he was so willing, but then I learned the real reason why. Apparently, the female twin had developed a crush on Jack and was demanding fifteen goats from him for a first date. Unfortunately for her, he didn't want to get the goats from "a guy" Jerry knew or from Falafel Phil, but he didn't know how to tell her he wasn't interested either. Pretending to date just seemed like the easiest way to go.

Now, pretending to be Jack's girlfriend wasn't all that hard. To be honest, I actually kind of liked it. Our relationship remained the same. The biggest difference between our friendship and the "romance" was the fact that we now held hands and kissed one another lightly on the cheek. To be even _more _honest, I was _slightly_ disappointed when it was over (and I meant _slightly_).

So I suppose that I should have been happy that, once again, we were pretending to be a couple to ward off an unwanted lover, but unfortunately I had this uncanny feeling that faking our relationship wasn't going to be nearly as fun as it was the first time. Also judging by the look on Jack's face, he was probably thinking the same thing.

"So, you two have a _thing._" Ricky asked or rather, stated.

I couldn't even look at the kid. If I did, I probably would have broken down at his "kicked puppy" look assuming that my revolt with Ricky was slowly melting like the Wicked Witch of the West.

So, instead of looking directly at Ricky, I decided to look just above his head. It made it easier for me to squash my guilt if I wasn't staring directly at the thing that was causing it.

"Yeah, Jack and I are a couple. Aren't we, _Jack?_" I put extra emphasis on Jack's name as I yanked him forward and forced his arm around my waist. I did this with the intent of having the two of us look more like an _extremely_ close couple. Simply holding hands just wouldn't cut it.

Jack hesitantly wrapped his arm around me, looking sort of uncomfortable, and I slowly leaned into him, feeling equally as uncomfortable. I wasn't sure what Jack was thinking, but I was hoping that Ricky wouldn't be able to see through my lie since I was the worst liar ever and Jack wasn't really acting like the best boyfriend either.

If Ricky hadn't been so upset then he probably would have noticed how awkward we looked and would have questioned the legitimacy of our relationship. But of course, he was upset and he didn't notice a thing.

At the lack of response, I dug an elbow into Jack's ribs, pointedly asking, "We are a couple aren't we, _Jack?_"

Jack let out a small gasp and shot me a little glare. "Yeah sure, I mean, of course we are, _Kimmy._"

I rammed my elbow even deeper into Jack's side and he let out an even louder gasp and winced in pain. That was what you got for calling me "Kimmy". Fake relationship or not, _no one _called me "Kimmy" with the exception of Henry. He knew that so why test me?

"_OW! _Watch my kidney! I need that!" Jack hissed.

"Oh, people can live off one kidney, can't they?" I muttered in response.

Our two second conversation seemed to go unnoticed by Ricky and for that I was grateful. Our not so romantic comments would have tipped Ricky off and that was the very _last _thing I wanted. I wanted Ricky to scram, not stick around hoping that I'd "fall out of love" with Jack or whatever since (in the eyes of outsiders) we were the least compatible people on the planet.

Jack let out a snort and muttered something about "two kidneys being better than one" and I rolled my eyes, decidedly turning my attention back to Ricky. Round one of "Do you really need Two Kidneys?" could be continued later.

"Ricky," I said tentatively, "Are you okay?"

Ricky went on as if I hadn't said anything. His eyes were anywhere _but_ on me. "So, you and Jack are together-_together_?"

Jack and I exchanged a glance and I nodded slowly in response. What was he trying to get—?

Ricky started to nod as well, but he abruptly stopped, his eyes narrowing when he looked back at me. "But yesterday, why didn't you just tell me that you and Jack were together?"

I stared at Ricky. So _that _was what he'd been trying to get at. Of all the times this kid could have chosen to be smart, _this_ was the time he chose? Seriously? I was kind of hoping that he would overlook that minor detail, but apparently he couldn't.

Just my luck.

"Yes, Kim." I cringed at the sound of Jack's voice. "Why _didn't _you tell Ricky about _us?_"

"Because...because...because...?" As you just saw there, I _was_ not good at this lying stuff, _especially _under pressure.

"Go on," Jack prompted. Good gosh, this kid really steamed my clams. He steamed them to the point where they were not even useful in chowder! When this whole ordeal was over, I was going to kick the living grits out of him in the same manner that I'd kicked the living grits out of Eddie for hacking off my hair. Well, maybe not as violently...

"Go on, Kim. We're waiting..."

"...because..._because_...?"

"Whatever. If you don't want to tell me then it's fine." Ricky snapped.

I was slightly taken aback by Ricky's sudden change in manner. In one split second he'd switched from "broken hearted" to "vengeance seeking". It reminded me of Truman's sudden change of manner yesterday afternoon following a suspicious text message. But Ricky hadn't received a text message or anything like that..._unless _he'd been forewarned or something...

I shook my head. I was looking too deeply into things. I'd just broken Ricky's heart the way he'd snapped mine in two. I'd been angry when this had happened so he also had the right to be angry. _Especially_ if he thought that I'd "led him on" by not telling him about Jack and me earlier.

Ricky slowly started backing away. It was easy to tell that he was struggling to suppress his anger. If you looked even closer, you could see the hurt and confusion that threatened to spill over his cheeks in the form of tears, just barely masked by the coldness in his eyes.

I looked down guiltily.

"Sorry for making things so awkward or whatever." Ricky shrugged unapologetically. "I just needed you to hear me out. I just had to get this off my chest. Every single word I said was true. My publicist didn't write _anything _for me."

"Whatever you say..." Jack shrugged. "...and stop tracking Kim's phone. It's creepy and obsessive."

Ricky ignored Jack again (what was new?). "Maybe I'll take Rue up on her offer then. Nothing's holding me back now. I'm a free man."

A chill went through me at that statement. Taking up an offer from _Rue? _Seriously?

"R-Ricky," I started but the kid just brushed me off.

"Good bye, Kim. I hope that you and Jack have a _great _life together." Ricky spat out venomously. "Really, you two are just so _perfect _for one another. I can't believe I didn't see it coming...well...I _kinda_ saw it coming. But I didn't know it was going to happen so soon..."

"Ricky, I—"

"Save it, Kim." Ricky whirled around on his heel and stalked out of Jack's backyard. "Just save it."

I stared after Ricky, my guilt and regret slowly accumulating in my chest. Great. I had just broken Ricky Weaver's heart _and _had driven him _straight _into Rue's waiting hands. That combination was a dangerous one. One vengeful superstar plus one vengeful ninja wannabe equalled...?

Once Ricky was out of sight and earshot, Jack and I broke apart. We hastily separated ourselves, eager to be individuals once again, straightening our clothes the moment we were freed from one another's grasp. I lightly ran my hand over the blood smear on the hoodie, acknowledging the fact that I needed to save up if I wanted to buy Jack a new hoodie.

However, all thoughts of me owing Jack a new hoodie evaporated with his next comment.

"So," Jack glared at me. "We're in a relationship. Do I at least get to kiss you?"

I glared right back at Jack. "Oh, shut up."

"What? Most couples kiss, right? Or," Jack raised an eyebrow at me cockily, "are we _not _dating? If that's the case, then you just _lied_ to poor _wittle_ _Wicky Weaver."_

"I said _shut up!_" This kid was determined to get under my skin, wasn't he? I could feel my clams steaming up again...

"Of _all _the lies you could have used, you chose the "I'm in a relationship" one? Really, Kim? Really?" Jack asked, folding his arms across his chest. "Even the _truth_ would've been better than that."

"Oh _please_," I rolled my eyes. "You're one to talk. Didn't you willingly go through with the whole "I'm in a relationship" thing when we were fighting off the foreign twins? What hypocrisy you spew!"

"True," Jack shrugged. I rolled my eyes again and Jack shot me another look before continuing on, "But that was in the past. Not to mention that I felt guilty afterward so I promised myself that I'd tell the truth when it comes to relationships I want and I don't want."

"And then what happened?" I muttered.

Jack gazed at me incredulously as if he couldn't believe I didn't know the ending to his story. "And _then _what happened? _You _happened! Here you went, dragging me through the mud and making me a part of a lie I didn't want to be a part of! Hey Kim, just because _you_ don't have a conscience, doesn't mean that _I_ don't either! Leave me out of your lies!"

My eyebrows hiked up my forehead. "Dragging you...mud..._what?_"

"Next time, if you're going to lie to someone, don't use the "I'm in a relationship" thing." Jack explained. "Or if you do, don't bring _me _into it. Use Jerry or something."

I almost threw up at the idea of me and Jerry...I couldn't even _say_ it!

"Look, I'm sorry okay? It's hard to turn someone down when they admit their feelings to you twice in a row. I'm used to getting thousands of locker notes, not face to face tell-alls." I shot back, "And FYI, I _do_ have a conscience and I _do_ feel guilty so can you leave me alone to wallow in my own guilt? Thanks."

I watched as Jack's apathy shifted into empathy. "Kim, I am not going to leave you to "wallow in your own guilt". You shouldn't feel guilty about turning Ricky down. You should feel guilty about _lying_ to him maybe, but _not _for turning him down. He is a jerk and a total fraud. He doesn't deserve someone as awesome as you. You deserve someone _so_ much better."

I felt my cheeks heating up a little and I gave Jack a small smile. "And by "someone _so_ much better" you mean you, right?"

"Yes Kim, that's exactly what I mean." Jack gave me a cocky grin. "No, but _seriously_. If it took Ricky _this _long to realize how amazing you are, then he _definitely _doesn't deserve you."

I sighed as leaned my head against Jack's shoulder (mostly because the pounding got...uh...worse...). "Maybe you're right..."

Jack rolled his eyes at me. "_Please, _just because I'm not "Kim Crawford" doesn't mean that I can't be right. Besides, when you actually think about it, I'm right more often than you are."

My grin widened. "Whatever. Now can I _please _have an Advil?"

If Jack had remembered to bring my phone with him when he'd been rushing outside to see what was going on when I screamed, then _maybe_ I would have noticed that I'd received a new picture message. If I had noticed that I'd received a picture message then _maybe_ I would have opened it. If I _had _opened it, then _maybe_ I would have realized that someone had been photographing Jack and me...

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><p>It was dark when I finally woke up.<p>

It took me a couple seconds to recollect myself and to remember what exactly was going on. I wearily propped myself up, completely content with the fact that the Tylenol _had _worked and my headache was now a dull and barely-there throb.

I turned my head. Jack was lying next to me still asleep. I forced myself to remember what exactly we'd been doing or talking about before we'd dozed off.

I knew that I'd been begging Jack for a pain reliever and he'd promised to get me one if I ate something first. I hadn't eaten much all day and he didn't want me to feel sick from taking the pill. I knew from personal experience that taking a pill on an empty stomach resulted in a stomach ache so I had agreed to eat. I remembered that Jack had heat up a couple red velvet cupcakes he'd made the night before. He hadn't specified why he'd made them, but I had the sneaking suspicion that he hadn't been baking simply because he was bored.

Simply put, Jack was a straight up stress-baker. If he couldn't get to the dojo to blow off some steam, then he'd bake tons and tons of goodies. Last year, I'd witnessed Jack's stress-baking firsthand when I'd been helping him study for his math exam. By the end of our late night study session, there were over one hundred macadamia nut cookies ready to be put into a cookie jar. While the guys and I didn't mind this weird obsession since it meant free food for us, according to Jack, it drove Ms. Brewer absolutely _crazy_.

Moving on, I remembered that, between bites of the red velvet cupcakes (the ever so _delicious _cupcakes—seriously, his cupcakes tasted better than mine and I was _in _Home Ec.), I'd been telling Jack about the up-a-tree creeper. I'd guiltily admitted that I had let the vandal escape and that he was right. I should have let him do the detective work. I also remembered that Jack had been all cocky about it and even though he'd never said "I told you so", I could see the words written all over his face. He became much more serious and worried, though, when I'd explained the implications of the incident—it was now confirmed that the vandals were both videotaping _and _physically watching us.

We'd skipped over the whole "Ricky Thing" and immediately jumped into what we thought Rue's offer was. I wanted to believe that Rue had asked to date him, but deep down I knew that she'd made Ricky a completely different offer. I remembered Jack acting as my conscience and vocalizing my thoughts.

To be honest, Jack and I were both just _slightly_ (understatement of the year two-point-oh) freaked out about the whole "Ricky-and-Rue" situation. The vandals had slipped things into our rooms, snuck into our houses, left us creepy locker notes, and had flat out stalked us. All this sounded very Rue-esque, but when you threw in the fact that Ricky had the (unnamed) ability to track my phone, you had to wonder if Ricky was involved too.

If Rue and her Ninja Warriors _were_ working with Ricky, then I wouldn't have been surprised. But that didn't explain Justin's suspicious manner upon seeing Jerry. That didn't explain Truman's weird reaction to the text he'd received and his father's stolen items. That didn't even explain why the phone number that had phoned me the "Night of the Mysterious Thumping" could be both valid and invalid. Nothing fit!

Having remembered myself vocalizing that thought, I believed that Jack and I had been discussing how everything fit together before we'd both passed out on his bed. I was almost certain of it.

I glanced at Jack again. He looked so calm and peaceful while he slept and he looked kind of cute...wait..._what?_

I shook the thought out of my head as reached for my phone, an iPhone, to check the time. Oh, I had a missed message. Maybe I should open—

"_Kim?_"

I looked up as Ms. Brewer quietly entered the room. "Oh Kim, you _are_ up."

I fully sat up as I set my phone down, nodding at the older woman as I tried to smother an upcoming yawn. "Yes, I'm awake now."

"That's good." She said, "How is your knee? I should hope that it's stopped bleeding by now."

I nodded. "My knee's fine, thanks. It still stings a little, but it's not bleeding."

Ms. Brewer nodded in approval. "Thank _God_. The very last thing I want to do is call your parents from the emergency room."

_My parents...my parents...my parents..._

My eyes widened. Oh. My. _God_. My parents—or more specifically—my _mom_ was going to flip _out_.

According to my phone, it was almost eight forty-five. That was _way _past the time I usually got home on a Friday. My mom hated it when I came home two minutes later than I was supposed to and she hated it even _more _when I forgot to call her to let her know when I was going to be home when I went out. Now, unfortunately for me, I'd done both. I was totally _screwed _and_—OHMIGOSH!_ Maybe that missed message was from _her_.

"Kim, stop freaking out." Ms. Brewer's even voice sliced through my frenzied thoughts. "Despite how entertaining it is to watch all your emotions dance across your face, you need to relax. I gave your mom a call a couple hours ago to let her know that you were here. She seemed a little upset that you were missing dinner, but otherwise she was alright with that."

I relaxed a little bit. Okay, so maybe my mom wasn't going to kill me—tonight. "Okay, thanks."

Ms. Brewer shrugged at me. "Anytime, Kim. I'm also ready to give you a ride home whenever you're ready. Just give me a call and I'll be there with the keys...if I can find them."

Just as she was about to close the bedroom door, she turned around again and gave me a smile. "Oops, I almost forgot. You might want this."

I might want wha—_OW!_

Ms. Brewer winced. "Oops, sorry."

Rubbing at the miniscule bump that was developing on my forehead, I gingerly picked up the tiny metallic square which had pegged me just above the eye. It was a vitamin C lozenge.

I gazed at Ms. Brewer questioningly and she shrugged back. "Well, considering the fact that you've been spooning against my son for the past two hours, I figured you'd need some vitamin C. No matter what he tells you, Jack is getting sick. His fevers always come first."

_Spooning?_ My jaw dropped. Did she honestly just say that—out _loud?_ Were moms even _allowed_ to say stuff like that?

She laughed at my facial expression as she shut the door behind her, leaving me, my shock and my vitamin C lozenge behind. I stared down at the tiny, metallic square before tossing it next to my phone. I'd take it later after I'd showered in hand sanitizer.

Instead, I started shaking Jack, in an attempt to wake him up. It took a couple hundred shakes, but eventually Jack came to. To be honest, I was kind of relieved when he woke up since I'd been afraid that I'd shaken him so hard that I'd given him a concussion or I'd killed him by the ways of shaken baby syndrome—well, shaken _teen _syndrome.

"_What?_" Jack yawned, opening one eye.

"Get up." I said, "We fell asleep. We've been sleeping for almost two hours."

"Really?" Jack yawned again as slowly propped himself up onto his elbows, checking his phone for the time. "Wow, you're right—and _don't _pull that "Kim Crawford's _Always _Right" thing on me."

I shrugged and Jack looked at me blearily, "So when are you going home? Your mom must be flipping out right now."

I shook my head. "Your mom called my mom so she knows I'm here and according to your mom I can go home whenever I feel like it."

Jack rested his head against his pillow again. "So, sleepover?"

My eyebrows shot up. "Um, let me think—no? Do you even _know _my mother?"

Jack chuckled. "Whatever."

""Whatever" yourself. I'm going to the bathroom and then I'm going home. I'd stay longer but you seem to need the sleep." I wrinkled my nose. "Besides, I don't want to catch whatever you've got. I've already been exposed and I need to _bathe_ in sanitizer now. I can't afford to be sick when my Pep Squad performs for the senior Pep Squad. My team needs me."

"And now you're a germaphobe." Jack rolled his eyes, "Seriously, Kim? I'm not even sick. I just feel a little off and that's _only _because I'm tired. Besides, can't your immune system handle a few germs?"

"Um, I think the term is _mysophobe_ and I think I reserve the right to be paranoid. I've barely slept these past few days and sleep deprivation affects your immune system." I shot back, "You'd know this if you actually paid _attention _in Health Class."

"I'm sorry but I'd like to forget _all _Health Class memories _especially_ after watching that video on whale birth. Jeez, I still have nightmares about that."

"Just like you still have nightmares about _clowns?_" I raised an eyebrow. If there was one thing that Jack was afraid of it was clowns. He was absolutely _terrified_ of them. I wasn't trying to be mean here, but it was kind of funny when you thought about it. Big, tough Jack being terrified of Ronald McDonald? Um...okay...bad example...

"Hey!" Jack exclaimed, "That's mean. Don't bring my coulrophobia into this."

"Coulrophobia? Such a big word for such a small boy, don't you think?"

Jack rolled his eyes at me. "Shut up."

"Uh, _no!_ We watched _It_ together and you had nightmares for two months. I have great blackmail material here." I laughed. It kind of felt good to laugh after all the crazy, creepy stuff that had been happening to us with the "vandals" case and all. And I meant a good, genuine laugh. Not a forced fake laugh like the ones I'd been dishing out to everyone these past few days regardless of whether or not they bought it.

"Hey, just because you can blackmail your teachers for good marks, doesn't mean that you can blackmail me too." Jack fired back.

"What? I don't—" Jack dished me a "let's be real here" look and I sighed, "Well, I don't _always_ blackmail teachers for marks."

"But you did to get a D-minus on that Geography test _everyone else _failed."

"I deserved that D-minus!" I trilled.

Jack smirked. "Did you "deserve" that A in the rest of History class too? Or that A in Biology? Or that A in Home Ec.? Or that—?"

I covered my ears with my hands screaming "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" as I stormed off to the bathroom, ignoring Jack's amused chuckles.

Another perk to Jack's "house" was that each bedroom came with its own bathroom, which meant that Jack had his own _private_ bathroom. I was not embarrassed to admit that I was totally jealous of him. I would have killed (not literally obviously) to have my own bathroom instead of having to share with Henry. Do you know how much time that kid spends on gelling his hair up in the morning? More time than a five-year-old should! It is absolutely _ridiculous!_

However, it wasn't anywhere near as ridiculous as Jack's claim that I blackmailed _all_ my teachers for good grades. I worked hard to get my grades. Blackmailing was just my version of Milton's grade-grubbing. There was no need to act like a "Teacher's Pet" when I had all the dirt on the teachers at Seaford. Besides, I really only blackmailed a select _few, _such as my Home Ec. teacher.

Still steaming from Jack's accusations, I yelled, "I _hate _you so much right now!"

Of course, Jack yelled back in response, "No you don't! You _love _me!"

He said some other things too, but I turned on the sink to flush him out (no pun intended).

As I washed my hands, I decided to refocus my attention on the "vandals" case as opposed to Jack's partially-false accusations. My mind immediately went to the suspects list which had changed so much in the course of twenty-four hours. All the top people had moved down on the list whereas the least likely people went up.

Justin was obviously at the top with Ricky and Rue nearby, but beyond that I didn't know who was next. I suppose Truman could have taken the next slot and then what? We'd been keeping tabs on The Black Dragons and Arthur, but neither seemed all that suspicious.

In retrospect, the fact that Arthur and The Black Dragons were basically off the radar should have been a red light, but I didn't really take it that way. In fact, I didn't even think twice about it. What a good detective I was.

When I finally exited the bathroom, Jack was sitting up, hunched over my phone with his brow furrowed.

Arching a brow, I stalked over to the boy and yanked my phone out of his grasp. "Ever heard of _privacy_, Jack? I can sue you for invasion of privacy, you know."

"Why? You have something _private_ on here?" Jack raised an eyebrow at me and I could feel my cheeks heating up. Before I could even say anything, Jack continued on, "Well, I wasn't looking for any texts or pictures or whatever. You got another picture message when you were in the bathroom and I decided to open it."

My heart thudded. "_Another _picture message?"

Jack nodded grimly. "More pictures of us...right _now_."

My eyes flickered towards Jack's bedroom window and I lowered my voice as I asked, "So you're saying that someone may be out there, right _now?_"

Jack gave another grim nod. "Yup."

I looked from the window, to Jack and back again before nodding. "I'll go."

"Are you sure?" Jack asked, "You let the last creeper get away..."

"Jack, it is pitch black outside. I may not be in the best athletic form right now, but when it's dark I have the element of surprise on my side. Not even the Ninja Warriors can deny my Ninjutsu skills."

"Okay, just because you've handled a shuriken without killing yourself, doesn't mean you're a ninja. I'd just like to clarify this." Jack teased.

I playfully smacked Jack on the arm. "Shut up. I'm taking my phone with me this time, so if I need any back up, I'll give you a call."

Jack thought for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay. But we'll _both _be outside. I'll be waiting on the patio for your call, but I might circle the premises for any other lurkers."

"Okay," I said, "Got it."

We did our super secret, secret handshake and quietly whispered "WASABI!" before we raced outside in hopes of dealing with the vandal once and for all.

* * *

><p>I crept around Jack's home, once again feeling like a total creeper as I slunk along the side of the mansion. I really hoped that none of his neighbours were on the phone right now with the police, calling about what they assumed was some sort of burglar or something sneaking its way around the multi-million dollar mansion.<p>

How embarrassing would it be to have the cops come in only to realize that the "burglar" was just some random teenager girl probably stalking some cute boy she saw at school? I didn't want to be that girl..._again_.

Just like it had this afternoon, as Jack's window drew closer, my fear and paranoia intensified. It was even worse this time around because it was pitchblack out, meaning that if the vandal happened to sneak up on me, I wouldn't even know until the last minute—the minute right before they attacked.

At this thought, I was on the brink of having a panic attack. Jack's speech about the vandals setting me up filled my head, only worsening my growing fear. I took a couple slow deep breaths to clear my mind and decided that if nothing happened to me, I'd never—

I squealed in terror as my phone sounded. It took a couple seconds for me to recollect myself and to calm my racing heart. I hit the _answer_ button without even checking to see who was calling me. "H-hello?"

"Kim?"

I let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't the vandals or even worse—my _mom_. It was just Milton.

"Milton," I breathed, "Oh my God, I thought you were a vandal or something."

"Um...well...I'm not. Sorry. I didn't mean to alarm you." Milton really did sound apologetic so I instantly forgave him.

"It's okay." I sighed. My nerves were slowly returning as the tree by Jack's window slowly came into my line of sight. I squinted up into the dark, twisted branches, trying to ignore the eeriness of it all, inching closer and closer to the tree trunk. "So what's the sitch? Why did you call? Did you receive any strange picture messages?"

"Picture messages?"

My heart sank.

"No. I haven't received any…or at least…I don't _think _I have. My phone died earlier this afternoon and I still have yet to charge it. I'm on my landline right now." Milton's voice suddenly took on a more urgent tone, "Why? Did you receive any picture messages? What were they of? Kim—"

"Milton," I cut him off, "Nevermind, it doesn't matter. So what were you saying? Why did you call me? I'm, uh, kinda busy right now..."

Milton was silent for a moment, seemingly surprised by my sudden change in topic, but he went along with it. "Well, uh, Eddie and I were at _Falafel Phil's _when Rudy came in claiming he had big news."

"What was it?" I asked as I came within a few feet of the tree. I peered up into the tree again, but I still couldn't see anything. It was too dark to see anything clothed in black so I had to get closer to the tree. But how could I if I was on the phone? I may have been whispering, but still, the vandal would eventually hear me.

Milton went on, blissfully unaware of my internal conflict, "Well according to Rudy, Mr. Turner is sending Arthur back to the dojo for _another _apology tomorrow."

"_WHAT!?_" I hissed into the phone, momentarily forgetting that I had to be quiet or else the vandal would hear me.

"Mr. Turner is making Arthur come back to apologize for the whole laxatives-in-brownies debacle. Arthur apparently feels bad for making us sick so Mr. Turner is allowing him to come back to apologize to us _again_..."

"And then he offers us cookies and within the next thirty minutes we learn that he laced them with ipecac." I snorted, "Arthur's not sorry at _all_. He's just going to get us sick again."

"Well, Rudy thinks that Arthur's actually sorry this time, so you _have _to come to the dojo tomorrow. Rudy said so."

"What time is the snob coming? What if I said I had gymnastics at that time? I could just say that my seven AM practice was moved to whatever time Arthur's coming."

"_Kim_..." I could hear the warning in Milton's voice.

"Fine, I'll come." I snapped, struggling to keep my voice low. I was right next to the tree now, so close to the vandal, so I couldn't risk anything. If I still wanted that "element of surprise" thing on my side then I needed to be quieter.

"Good," Milton said approvingly. "Pass the message on to Jack. Eddie's ringing up Jerry as we speak. Oh, and onto even better news, Liam did it!"

"Liam _who?_" I whispered as I glared up into the leaves. I couldn't see anything up in the tree, frustratingly enough, and it wasn't (only) because it was dark. I had a sneaking suspicion that there was nothing up there. Whatever had been up in the tree had vanished, probably when they saw Jack and I leave the room.

I mentally cursed myself. One of us should have stayed in the room to keep the vandal busy just as we'd done this afternoon. We were _so—_

I froze. Was something behind me? I thought I'd heard something...and why did I feel like someone was watching me?

Milton sighed. "My _nerd friend_. The one I said could hack into the surveillance camera's wireless system to see who the images were streaming to?"

"_Oh_, that nerd." I said distractedly.

I swore that there was something or some_one _behind me, but when I turned around, whatever it was, was gone. I flashed back to my experience in the park, how I'd thought that something had been following me home, but I hadn't been able to figure out whether it was true or not until I'd been alone in the park.

A chill went through me, my hair standing on end. I couldn't shrug off the feeling that someone was watching me.

"Yeah, well, _Liam_ found out who the images were going to! He called me a couple minutes before I phoned you!"

"Well, who is it?" I asked testily, shifting around uncomfortably. I needed to end this phone call with Milton to phone Jack in ASAP. Something was out here with me, I was almost certain of it. And I was just as certain that the thing that was out here was a vandal.

"Calm down Kim," Milton said, "The images were being transmitted to—"

A hand clamped down on my shoulder.

_Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!_

Paralyzed with fear, my phone slipped out of my hand, landing in the grass with a soft thud. Milton's words were lost to the earthworms. I didn't hear the rest of his sentence.

I moved, struggling to escape, but to no avail. The hand was clamped down tight, tighter than Ricky's grasp had been.

The hand squeezed down on my shoulder tightly and I winced in pain, allowing myself to be turned around slowly by whoever had caught me.

_OH MY G—!_

* * *

><p>* <strong><span>JACK BREWER<span>** *

The fact that Kim still hadn't returned from her little investigation was starting to worry me.

The two of us had chosen to split up to check up on a potential lead in the "vandals" case which could finally end the craziness which had screwed with most of our week.

Roughly fifteen minutes ago, while chilling in my room, both Kim and I had received a series of picture messages from a blocked number. Creepily enough, the pictures that had been sent to us were _very _recent pictures of both Kim and I. The photographs had been taken literally seconds before they were sent. This led us to believe that the person who had been taking photos of us was outside right _now_.

With this in mind, we had decided it would be best to go outside and investigate. Kim had decided that she would be the one who would go check the side of the house my room was on for any suspicious activity, while I checked around the other side of the house for more suspicious activity. We promised that we would call each other if we saw or heard anything.

I'd circled my side of the yard several times without seeing anything remotely suspicious and had returned to our meeting spot on my patio. Since I hadn't received any phone calls from Kim, I'd assumed that she had returned to the patio without seeing anything—but she _hadn't_.

Almost ten minutes had gone by and she _still_ hadn't returned.

Although, I wasn't all that interested in giving the blonde anymore reason to accuse me of having a _Hero Complex_—mainly because I _didn't_ have one—I was seriously considering going after Kim to make sure that she was alright since her prolonged absence was really starting to freak me out.

Considering the fact that I hadn't heard her or her next victim scream, it was safe to assume that Kim was perfectly fine and nothing had happened. But if that was the case, why was taking her so long to come back to the patio or give me a call?

With a sigh, I decided it was time to go look for Kim because I was done waiting around. If she was fine then great. She could accuse me of having a _Hero Complex_ as many times as she wanted. If she wasn't fine then I wanted to be there for her the way I knew she'd be there for me.

Confident in my decision, I made my way towards the end of the patio, walking along the edge of the giant swimming pool. I could have done with a dip in the pool since I was feeling all warm and kinda gross. If I had to guess, I'd say that my slight fever had gone up.

I stepped off the brick paver and turned in the direction Kim left in, flinching when I saw something dart behind the side of the mansion. I blinked a couple times, not completely sure if what I'd seen was some trippy fever-induced hallucination or not. I was about to go check it out when something else captured my attention.

I heard footsteps behind me.

I immediately jerked my body around, scanning the darkness for whatever or whoever had just been behind me. Weirdly enough, I saw absolutely nothing and saw absolutely no one.

I frowned as I turned around, anxiously playing with the bands around my wrist. It was some stupid nervous habit I hadn't been able to kick just yet.

Ignoring that lingering feeling that something was totally off, I cautiously took a few steps forward, peering into the darkness with some hope that either Kim would randomly materialize in front of me or the thing which had disappeared behind the side of my house would accidentally reveal itself. Unfortunately, neither of those things happened.

Instead, the feeling that something was seriously wrong only intensified as I walked, making me feel a little uneasy. Even after all that had happened, I still wasn't quite used to feeling scared. I got scared about as often as I got nervous—which was basically _never._ The feeling was completely foreign to me and it was totally throwing me off my game.

Uneasiness continuing to fill my stomach—much to my annoyance—I kept walking. I was only a couple feet away from the spot where I swore I saw someone dart behind my house. Just as I was about to round that corner, I froze.

There were those footsteps again.

Just like before, I hastily jerked myself around, this time positioning myself in a much more threatening stance, but also just like before, there was no one behind me. Once again, it appeared as if whoever it was had pulled a _Houdini_ or something.

A frustrated groan almost escaped my lips when I heard something crucial.

The noise came from my mom's flower bushes—in a way. The leaves in the tall hedge behind my mom's flower bushes as well as the leaves in the actual flower bushes rustled and shook as if something had hastily ducked into them—maybe in an attempt to hide from me.

I paused, trying to figure out my next move.

Was it _really_ a smart idea to jump into the bushes without _any_ kind of plan or back-up, ala Jerry? I had absolutely no idea just who or what I was dealing with. There was a slight possibility that I would end up taking on more than I could chew. But on the other hand, wasn't it even _more_ risky not to make the first move? If I moved quickly, I still had the element of surprise on my side. If I waited any longer, whoever was hiding in the hedge would get away before I'd be able to utilise it.

I resisted the urge to fan myself with the collar of my striped Henley. This fever wasn't helping my thought process—at all.

Just as I was about to give in to the "fight" portion of my "Fight or Flight" instincts and throw myself into the bushes, I heard my mom call my name. She must have left her bedroom window open or something in order for me to hear her so clearly. Her voice sliced through the otherwise quiet night, "_Jack, baby, could you please answer the door for me? I'm taking a quick shower before I take Kim home_."

I frowned as I looked from the house to the bushes and back again. I hadn't even heard the doorbell ring, but maybe that had more to do with the fact that I was outside, not that it even mattered anyway. No matter how many times I heard the doorbell ring and my mom yelling at me to answer it, I would still ignore it.

Finding out who was tormenting me and friends was bit more important than listening to my mom. The "vandals" situation affected not only me, but also my friends. Unlike the "mom" thing which really only affected me. I could deal with some extra grounding, but I couldn't let my friends lose even more sleep over this whole "vandals" thing.

That was exactly why I was going to jump into those bushes with only my martial arts skills and no plan—because I cared about Kim, Jerry, Milton and Eddie.

Feeling a little less uneasy about my decision since I'd acknowledged why I was doing it, I prepared myself for my dash into the bushes. I had to be quick if I still wanted the element of surprise on my side. But before I even could even react, something jumped out of the bushes and shot past me.

My heart racing, I jerked myself around at record speed, just in time to see a neighbourhood cat streak across the lawn and disappear into the darkness.

My jaw dropped. My mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out.

That thing that had been following me, that thing which had actually made me a little scared, had only been a neighbourhood _cat?_

If I hadn't been in so much shock, I probably would've laughed at how paranoid I'd been, but I _was_ in shock. If my mom hadn't called for me to answer the door again I probably would have stood there all night, staring dumbly into the darkness. I honestly couldn't believe what had just happened. I mean, a _cat?_

Still unable to comprehend just what had gone down in the backyard but feeling somewhat relieved anyway, I made my way back towards the house, barely aware of the awfully familiar giggle that came from deep within the bushes.

I stepped inside and closed the patio doors behind me, making my way towards the foyer.

Remembering that the whole purpose of my backyard escapade was to find out what had happened to Kim, I pulled my cellphone out of my pocket, fully prepared to call her and let her know that she had won whatever game she was playing. If she was trying to prove that I had a _Hero Complex_ by purposely making me panic, then she'd won. I didn't care. I just wanted to hear her voice again.

I was slightly surprised when I saw that I'd received a text message a couple minutes ago, but before I could see who it was from, I was blinded.

After several impatient doorbell rings had echoed through the house, I'd _finally_ answered the door, only to find myself unable to see the people who had been ringing the doorbell with less patience than Kim had on any given day since they had decided that now would be a good time to blind me. Squinting into the light, I tried my best to identify the people in front of me, slightly surprised when the light was suddenly shut off.

Blinking rapidly, I struggled to get used to the lack of light.

"Is this the _Brewer_ residence?"

I rubbed my eyes a couple times. "Uh yeah..."

"Are you _Jack Brewer_?"

"Yeah, who the heck are—?" I froze, my hand slowly moving away from my eyes.

I was literally staring into the eyes of two cops. This was _not_ some fever-induced hallucination.

They both looked as different as could be with one a little smaller than me and the other towering over me and one Caucasian and the other African-American. Heck, according to their badges, even their last _names_ were on opposite sides of the alphabet. But despite the differences, there was one thing in common with both of them—they were both glaring at me with the nastiest, most spiteful facial expressions I'd ever seen on a cop.

I flinched at their glares. "Uh...hello...Officers..."

The smaller cop glared at me patronizingly, shrinking me down even though I was significantly taller than he was. "We're from the San Jose Police Department, son, and you're under arrest."

I blinked slowly. "Say what now?"

The taller cop rolled his eyes. "You're under arrest, Jack. You're under arrest for the break in and vandalism of the _Black Dragon Martial Arts Academy_."

* * *

><p><strong>* AN * **

**And there you have it folks! The TENTH chapter of Vandals Anonymous...DONE! **

**I am SO sorry for not updating for almost one whole, entire month. I really and truly am. But the Kickin' It hiatus really put me in a bit of dump, I suppose, and so did school. I have SO much homework ALL the time. It's absolutely ridiculous. But I need to keep up since this year, in theory, 'grades _really_ matter'. This is the year where I'm actually trying in ALL my classes (PE included) to get an A.**

**_So onto the story..._**

**Don't y'all _LOVE _the cliffies I left. All three of them were fabulous and were carried out fairly close to how I wanted it. So we don't know who the images are going to, we don't know what happened to Kim and Jack just learned that he (and others...) have been arrested for a crime that he (they) _reportedly _committed. The three promised cliffhangers have been unleashed now, so I wonder what's going to happen in chapter eleven...**

**So, what do you guys think about Ricky. Is he really going to Rue or is something else going on? Were they _always _in league or is this a new thing? I hope I handled his departure alright because I rewrote it SO many times. I wasn't too sure how to send him off and I experimented a bit so...**

**I hope that Jack's POV turned out alright. I was kinda tired of writing at this point and considering what was going on in his portion of the story, his POV wasn't as colourful/elaborate as Kim's was. But then again, male POV's are supposed to be somewhat simpler (but not any less complex, if you know what I mean). Whatever. I'll rewrite it later if I must especially considering how Kim-ish this was. **

**Now my references...I referenced SO many things in the last two chapters (nine and ten) and I wonder if you (or even ME) can even name them all. There are a couple obvious ones and a couple not so obvious ones. I hope you guys still dig my references because I still enjoy them. I think I even made a few in Jack's POV!**

**Oh, and I couldn't help but to reference Jack's fear of clowns, which will touched upon in "Boo Gi Night"! I can't WAIT to see it...and "Kung Fu Cops". Why won't anyone upload it? It's driving me CRAZY! Whatever, I saw the sneak peek for both so now I'm really excited! Heehee!**

**_And on that note, this leads us to..._**

**_ALPHA'S TENTH CHAPTER CELEBRATION!_**

**In the longest chapter of Vandals Anonymous, I'm having a CELEBRATION...in which I actually CAN'T celebrate in! ARG! This is SO frustrating! This chapter is already _so _long so once again, I must push back my celebration to a later date. Maybe I'll just make the next chapter just one big celebration A/N or something...or maybe not. I dunno and no1currr...**

**_Love you ALL like a crazy,_**

**ALPHA!**

**PS: What do you guys think is going to happen in the next chapter? Come on, don't be shy! Comment on your ideas!**

**PPS: *****REVIEW!********

**PPPS: Now you know Kim's phone type, an iPhone of _any_ current generation, really.**


	12. Chapter 11

*** A/N ***

**Hey there, it's ALPHA with the eleventh chapter of my beloved "Kickin' It" mystery FanFic, _Vandals Anonymous_. **

**I apologize for not updating in five, almost six, months. I will explain more in my second A/N.**

**Since I haven't updated in such a long time, I advise you all to read the previous chapters before you begin reading this one, just to refresh your memories.**

**As usual, there is a longer A/N at the bottom of this chapter and I'd prefer it if people actually reviewed alongside favouriting and alerting. My goal is to reach 200 reviews and I do hope to reach that goal with this or next chapter. It's not the end of the world if I don't reach my goal, but I'd be a lot happier if I did.**

**_DISCLAIMER_****: I do not, under _any _circumstances, own the characters or places mentioned in _Disney XD_'s "Kickin' It". **

* * *

><p><strong>* <span>JACK BREWER<span> ***

The car ride to the San Jose Police Department would have been a lot better if my mom hadn't been the one driving.

It wasn't that she was yelling and screaming at me as she drove—she'd done her yelling and screaming when she'd come home after dropping Kim off last night—it was her driving itself that bugged me and the drivers around us.

If there was one thing I was absolutely terrified of aside from clowns, it was my mom's terrible driving. I never fully understood how my mom could walk in a straight line in four or five inch heels and still had so much trouble driving in one lane instead of two. Somehow my mom managed to cross over traffic lines without even noticing it until cars started honking like crazy. It was even scarier when she looked down to change the radio station and looked back up only to find herself in a line of oncoming traffic.

To be honest, I was actually surprised she hadn't been stripped of her driver's license yet. My mom's lack of driving ability should have captured the eyes of several cops by now, but apparently it hadn't. Either that or any cop that tried to ticket her immediately forgot what they were supposed to be doing when they saw her and realized how _hot_ she was or whatever.

I sighed as I pressed my forehead against the car's glass window. Since I was feeling kinda feverish and lightheaded—on top of having a sore throat and a runny nose—the cool glass felt unusually good against my hot, clammy forehead.

My mom glanced at me briefly before returning her attention to her rear view mirror and her makeup application. She was determined to apply her mascara even though she was driving. She didn't say anything which was kinda weird since she usually would've said something about how I looked kinda flushed or something.

She'd been like this ever since she stopped freaking out about my 'arrest'. She'd become all mellow and chill, putting some distance between us. My mom usually only became withdrawn if something was bugging her, but that didn't really make much sense since my mom usually had no trouble telling me if something was bothering her—trust me, I'd know—and she hadn't said anything to me yet.

"Mom, please keep your eyes on the road." I begged as the car veered into the next lane over for the hundredth time. I peeled my head away from the window. "Can't you put on your mascara when we park? I'd prefer it if I lived until our next car ride."

My mom sighed loudly and she jerked us back into our lane for the hundredth time, putting her mascara stick down on a napkin. "Fine, but we're already running late for the police thing and you know how long it takes me to apply my makeup."

"Yeah, like two hours." I said, picking up the mascara stick and putting it back in its tube thing. "It takes you two whole hours to put on makeup, _Snooki_."

My mom didn't even crack a smile at the nickname like she usually did which was a really bad sign. Laughing at the nicknames I'd given her—when I wasn't super upset—was one of those things that she always did. It was like how she always made me breakfast in bed when I was sick, or she skipped work even when she was in danger of being fired—again—to see my big tournaments, or how she decided it was totally okay to bring up embarrassing stuff about me in front of Kim—she _always_ did those things.

When she didn't laugh, it was pretty clear that something was up.

I gazed at my mom worriedly. "Hey mom, what's wrong? You seem kinda, you know, upset..."

My mom sighed and looked at me for a brief moment before returning her attention back to the road. "Jack, when we moved here you promised me that you wouldn't get into anymore trouble and conveniently enough, we're now on our way to the San Jose Police Department. I know you said you didn't vandalize those other kids' dojo and I believe you, but honestly? Why would anyone want to set you up in the first place?"

Ah, so that was what was bothering her. "Mom, I know that I promised you that I'd get into a lot less trouble when we moved here, and I know that things look really bad right now—"

My mom snorted. "You think? What's your grandfather going to say when he returns from his trip?"

I stared at my mom. My grandfather had been in Albuquerque for the past two days. He'd left Thursday morning to go visit one of his friends who'd recently been diagnosed with cancer, leaving us alone with the house. "Wait, you haven't told grandpa yet?"

My mom shook her head. "No, I haven't. We found out about the accusations really late last night and I didn't have time to call him this morning. I also didn't want to worry him about the arrest since he's probably already having a tough time being back with his friend as is."

"Right...he probably is having a hard time being with his friend." I said slowly. "So you never told him about the arrest."

"No," my mom confirmed. "I haven't yet. I might call him while we're down at the police department or we'll just wait for him to return on Monday before telling him. Either way, the news would be the exact same."

"But how he'll react will be different." I countered. "Mom, I think you should call him today and tell him. He'll be more upset if he finds out we've been keeping this from him than if we tell him about it right now. Grandpa's always going on and on about telling the truth and not keeping secrets and stuff."

My mom nodded slowly, considering what I'd said, and instead of waiting for some kind of response, I decided to rush ahead and finish up my apology thing which my mom had cut short.

"And like I was saying, I know things look really bad right now but I promise you that I _never_ meant for anything like this to happen. I'm really sorry. I...I...I don't know why someone would want to set me up. It's probably just a stupid prank gone wrong."

My mom snorted again. "Oh, where did I hear that one before?"

"Mom, I'm being serious here. Maybe it _was_ just a prank. Either way, I'm really sorry." If my mom didn't accept this awkward apology then I really didn't know what to do. I couldn't tell her exactly why I was set up since it involved actually telling her about the vandals. I knew my mom trusted me, but I highly doubt that she'd believe my story about the vandals. I mean, even _I _had trouble believing that this was actually happening.

She sighed loudly and didn't say anything for the next couple, awkward minutes. The whole time I had to guess what she was thinking since my mom made the best pokerfaces known to mankind. Her face remained blank and she stared straight ahead, careful not to show me whatever she was thinking or feeling. It was kind of weird to see my mom's face so unanimated since she was always so enthusiastic and whatever.

Finally she looked at me and I could see the corners of her mouth turning up. "Okay, so how about from here on out you limit the pranking you and your 'friends' do. If the pranks are sending you to the police department then they need to stop—_right now_."

I shrugged. "I'm down with that."

My mom cracked a half smile and before I could even react, she leaned over and kissed me on the forehead—before suddenly jerking away from me, almost hitting her head on the rear view mirror. "Oh my God, Jack. You are burning up. You were flushed and everything but I didn't think that you'd be this warm. Babe, why didn't—?"

"Mom, eyes on the road! We are about to _crash_ into that BMW!"

* * *

><p>A couple minutes and a few more near accidents later, we finally pulled into the San Jose Police Department parking lot—thankfully.<p>

"Hey look," my mom pointed at another vehicle a couple feet away from us. "The Crawfords are here."

I glanced over at the other vehicle and nodded, unsurprised.

This morning I'd learned, mostly through hysterical text messages, that I wasn't the only one who'd been visited by the cops in the past twelve hours. The cops had also paid the other Wasabi Warriors a visit last night and earlier this early morning and we'd all been called in for the exact same thing—breaking into and vandalising the Black Dragon Martial Arts Academy because unlike our case, which reportedly had no clues or evidence as to who had vandalised our dojo, the Black Dragons did have evidence—_video_ evidence. But unfortunately, the evidence somehow pointed to _us _despite the fact that we were nowhere near the Black Dragon's dojo when it had been "under siege" two nights ago.

Through a bunch of confusing text messages, we'd all come to the conclusion that we'd been set up; most likely by same people who had vandalised our dojo and had been sending the majority of us threatening locker notes and strange text and picture messages, on top of stalking us and breaking into our houses and possibly planting hidden cameras in our rooms and other places. Although we had no evidence that same people who'd done all of this to us had also framed us for a crime we'd never committed, we had a feeling that it wasn't just another one of the Black Dragons' lame attempts at seeking revenge on us for 'stealing' Kim away. It was mostly because it would mean that Frank, the leader of the Black Dragons, was the mastermind behind the prank and we all agreed that Frank was _way_ too stupid to come up with something like this—on his own, at least.

I cringed when my mom made a jerky left, sliding into the first empty parking space she'd spotted, and groaned when my head smacked against the window's glass. Pain exploded across the area of contact which caused a minor headache to start up on top of my malaise. I shot my mom a look. "_Ow..._"

My mom gazed at me sympathetically as she powered the engine down. "Sorry babe, I definitely didn't mean for that to happen. Is your head okay? Do you want me to kiss it better or something?"

I groaned as the pain in my head spread. "Ugh...mom, you do realize that I'm not six anymore, right?"

"Yeah, but you know as well as the next person that that doesn't stop me." My mom leaned over and kissed me on the forehead again. "Damn, you're warm. We're definitely icing you down when we get home."

"_Great..._" I muttered sarcastically, unbuckling my seatbelt. I loved my mom and everything, but sometimes her TLC tactics were a little annoying. Like she usually did when I was sick, my mom was going to smother me the way Eddie's mom usually smothered him.

"Hey, no attitude. I know you'd rather just lay in bed asleep, but I'm not leaving you alone with a fever this high. Definitely not after last time; one hospitalization is enough for me." My mom said firmly. "And on the topic of _attitude_, while you're being questioned, do _not_ under _any_ circumstances argue _aggressively_ with the interrogation officer, storm out of the interrogation room, flip a table _or_ flip the_ interrogation officer_. The last thing I want to hear is that my son is going to prison for harassing a police officer."

I shot my mom an amused look. "I'm not going to attack a cop, mom. I'm not crazy."

My mom slid out the driver door and straightened her a-little-too-short sundress before reaching for her mascara, which I quickly snatched up for her. "I get the feeling that you're only telling me this so I don't worry to the excess while you're in the interrogation room."

I grinned, offering my mom her mascara tube. "That's only because I love you."

My mom gave me a sly smile and snatched her mascara away from me, immediately slamming her car door in my face.

"No 'thank you' _and_ slamming a car door in my face? Great parenting, mom." I teased as I squeezed through the passenger door since my mom had parked way too close to the car on her right. "Hey, you parked crooked—_again_."

My mom ignored me in favour of waving to the Crawfords as they piled out of their SUV, which wasn't that big a surprise since she hated it when I commented on her lack of driving or parking skills.

Kim's mom was the first to notice my mom's friendly waves and raised her hand in acknowledgement. She walked towards us, tightly gripping Henry's, Kim's kid brother, hand so he wouldn't dash across the parking lot towards me and my mom —and the five-year-old looked pretty upset about it. Mr. Crawford soon followed, waving at us as he barked something into his Bluetooth, and Kim was right behind him looking as unenthusiastic as ever—but that's nothing new.

I grinned to myself as I leaned against our car. Kim looked exceptionally pretty today, like she'd really dressed up for the occasion. She'd curled her hair into soft, loose waves, tying it into a side ponytail, and was wearing a pretty scarf to match the floral skirt I had the 'pleasure' of buying her last week because she'd won—another—bet with me. From what I could tell, she was also wearing a little lipgloss and maybe even eyeshadow and mascara, at least, on the right side of her face since she was determined not to look at me head on.

Once we'd said our hellos and our parents were engaged in a riveting conversation about something, I made my way towards Kim. I'd been planning to compliment and cheekily tease her about actually dressing to impress today, but the minute I saw her face—her _entire_ face—I completely forgot everything I was going to say for a totally different reason than what everyone would expect.

"Hey Jack..." Kim said awkwardly, shifting uncomfortably under my gaze.

I stared at her. "Is that...?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I slept on an _icepack_ last night and it _still_ turned out this way."

I leaned forward to examine the damage done; wincing in second-hand pain at the sight of the giant bruise on the blonde's left cheek.

It looked like it hurt—a lot.

The small bruise—which hadn't really been anything other than a painful, quickly reddening blemish the last time I'd seen it—had become something else entirely by the time the sun was up. Overnight, it had darkened and had spread across the whole left side of Kim's face, from her cheekbone up. The initial bruise site—where the blemish had been—had swelled up nearly twice its size and was now a deep, purplish colour. The skin around it had become an odd mix of green and blue before it eventually became yellow and melded together with Kim's naturally bronzed skintone. The skin around Kim's left eye had also darkened and had swelled up too. Although it hadn't swelled up enough to seal her eye completely shut, it was swollen enough for you to be able to tell that her cheek was swollen from a mile away.

I immediately felt kinda guilty, like I could have prevented the accident which had caused the giant bruise which had pretty much swallowed up the entire left side of Kim's face. Instead of wasting time in the backyard, freaking out over something which turned out to be just a stupid neighbourhood cat, I should have gone to check on her. But I didn't and this bruise was the crappy result.

I reached out and tucked a couple of Kim's escaped curls behind her ear, my finger tips lightly grazing her cheek, so I could have a proper view of the bruise which marked her otherwise perfect skin. "Wow...she really got you good, didn't she?"

Her eyes quickly darted towards me before darting away again and I could tell that she was going pink despite the bruises. "You think? I've taken so many painkillers that I feel like I've been sniffing _Expo_ markers for the past five hours and this thing _still_ throbs."

I groaned, allowing my hand to drop from her cheek. "Ugh, this is _all_ my fault. I should have come searching for you when you didn't turn up instead of sculling around the patio. If I did then none of this would have happened."

"Hey Jack, I think your _Hero Complex _is showing..." Kim teased warningly and I rolled my eyes in response.

"Kim, I'm not going to argue about the whole _Hero Complex_ thing anymore—but for the record, I _don't _have one—and I'm being serious here. You could have been seriously hurt. You could have ended up in the hospital or something."

"Except that I didn't." Kim said. "Jack, how many times do we need to have this conversation? Contrary to popular belief, not all blondes are in desperate need of saving by their boyfriends. Some of them actually have the ability to defend themselves and—"

My eyebrows rose slightly. "Hold up, did you just imply that we're dating?"

Kim's jaw dropped. "_What?_"

"You literally just said in your pro-feminism speech that 'not all blondes are in desperate need of saving by their boyfriends', implying that you think of _me_ as your _boyfriend_."

Kim's cheeks lit up almost immediately. "No, when I said 'boyfriend' I meant 'boy friend', as in a friend who just so happens to have an X and Y chromosome instead of two Xs; a friend who is of the male gender; a dude; a guy friend; a—"

"Kim," I cut in, smirking a little. "Calm down, I was just teasing you. I knew exactly what you meant by 'boyfriend'. Although, I would completely understand if you meant it the other way since I am, after all, _irresistible_."

Kim raised her eyebrows at me. "Irresistible? _Please_,"

"What?" I coyly raised an eyebrow at Kim as I did what I thought was a pretty good body roll before reaching for the hem of my T-shirt, teasingly pulling it up a little. "I am. I look absolutely _fantastic_. Wanna see my abs?"

Kim tried to smother a laugh as she gently pushed my hand away from my shirt. "Ew...you know how most girls would have to say 'keep your pants on'? Well apparently I'm the girl who has to tell the guy to keep his shirt on."

"And I'm the guy who'd have to listen to the girl, otherwise I'd be attacked." I joked.

Kim took a step towards me. "And I'm the girl who'd most likely do the attacking since any other girl would just _die_ at the thought of seeing your abs. Absolutely _pathetic_. I'm the girl with _way_ more dignity than that. I'm Kim-dependant."

I smirked. "And I'm the guy who's always questioning the theory of 'Kim-dependence' since it usually lands her in serious trouble."

"And I'm the Kim-dependant girl who firmly believes in the theory of 'Kim-dependence' even if it lands her in tons of trouble." Things suddenly took a turn for the serious when Kim made an obvious reference to her attack, even gesturing towards her cheek. "Exhibit A,"

My smirk faded and I took a step towards her. "And I'm the guy who blames himself whenever something bad happens to his "Kim-dependant" best friend."

"And I'm the girl who just wants to know why her best friend always blames himself whenever something goes wrong with her," Kim took another step towards me. "And I'm also the girl who wants to know the reason why her best friend keeps on bringing up the fact that they're best friends like he's trying to imply something that she doesn't get."

_And I'm the guy who knows the answer to both questions_

While I struggled to come up with some sort of cheeky, impersonal reply, Kim patiently—yes, Miss Crawford has _patience_—gazed at me. She was waiting for my response to her question, her dark brown eyes wide with curiosity. She raised her hand to brush back another loose curl which had managed to escape her ponytail, but the action caused our hands to bump against each other allowing a small electric shock to zip between us. We both moved our hands back sheepishly.

As usual, we'd somehow managed to inch our way towards each other and were now less than half an inch away from touching. It was something that seemed to happen a lot these days and I guess that it was mostly because we spent so much time around each other. It wasn't as if we didn't hang out a lot before, but thanks to the vandals thing, we'd become pretty close and fate seemed to want us to get even _closer_.

After my long silence, Kim finally opened her mouth and was just about to say something, when her kid brother came running towards us.

"_JACKIE! KIMMY!_"

Kim and I hastily jumped back from each other, and turned to look at the five-year-old.

"Mommy and Jackie's mommy told me to tell you that we're going inside now so hurry up!" Henry exclaimed, gesturing at the adults who'd started walking towards the police department sometime during Kim's and my conversation.

"Ladies first," I said, moving aside so Kim could go first, but Henry grabbed both of our hands and started dragging us forward.

"Come _on_, slowpokes!" he said impatiently. "You can finish making kissy faces _later!_"

* * *

><p>Less than a minute later, Kim and I entered the San Jose Police Department with Henry in tow to join our parents who'd come inside a couple minutes before we had. We were greeted by a receptionist who called in two cops—thankfully neither of them were one of the cops I had the 'pleasure' of meeting last night—who led Kim and I to one waiting room and the adults plus Henry to another, offering the five year old a pack of crayons and a colouring book to use.<p>

Already inside our waiting room were Milton and Eddie, both looking pretty freaked out for two completely different but related reasons—they were both pacing around the room with Milton hysterically freaking out at a totally bewildered Eddie, whose half-hearted attempts at calming Milton down was obviously failing miserably.

It wasn't Eddie's fault though. Calming Milton down was a task easier said than done _especially _when he was this stressed out.

The only person who could quickly calm Milton down when he was in this state was Kim. Whereas it would take me a couple minutes to calm Milton down, Kim had the natural ability to calm Milton down in a matter of seconds. Heck, she had the ability to calm almost _anyone _down in a couple seconds as long as she wasn't freaking out herself. I had a feeling it more to do with her choice of words instead of her actually being comforting, meaning that she found ways to shut you up even if she didn't actually calm you down. But either way, her method kinda worked.

"Milton, Eddie, what's going on here?" Kim said loudly.

They both stopped pacing and turned to face us, looking surprised at Kim's and my presence, and Eddie was the first to recover from his surprise. Relief seemed to wash over Eddie's face as he ran at us. "Thank _Falafel Balls_ you two are here! Milton's gone bat guano _crazy!_"

"Bat...guano...crazy..._what?_" Kim shot me a confused look and I shrugged.

All I knew was that with his hair sticking up all over his head and dark circles under his unusually bright eyes, there was no question that Milton looked kinda crazy. It probably didn't help that his left eye was twitching, either.

"Milton," Kim cautiously stepped forward. "What's wrong? We could hear you yelling at Eddie all the way from the main entrance."

Milton stared at Kim. "What's...wrong...? What's wrong? What's _wrong_? _What's wrong?_ I'll tell you what's _wrong!_"

"Then get to it, Milton. We don't have all day!" Kim snapped in annoyance.

"Milton's freaking out because he's worried about the outcome of the arrest! He doesn't think that everything's going to work out; that everything's going to be fine." Eddie explained, ducking behind Kim and I. "Don't let him hurt me!"

I looked down at Eddie before looking back up at Kim, shooting her a confused look which she returned, and then turned back to Milton, who suddenly looked a whole lot more crazy.

"Do _not _tell me everything is going to be _fine_ when I'm at a police department about to be thrown in prison for a crime I did not commit!" Milton trilled. "Do you not understand what will happen if we are convicted of the crime we obviously did not commit? Do you know what will happen if the police find the falsified video evidence as substantial evidence to convict us of vandalism?"

Kim opened her mouth to respond but Milton began speaking before she could say anything.

"If we get convicted, _if _the police believe the _obviously_ apocryphal video evidence, chances are that we will be attending a juvenile detention center—since we are still not of legal age for prison—"

"Milton," I managed to cut him off. "Look, I'm not a genius on the criminal justice system—we'll leave that sort of stuff to Jerry—but I'm pretty sure that we're not going to juvy for this. If the cops actually believe the video and not us, at worst we'll probably have to pay some sort of fine for all the damage done to the dojo—anything Ty's insurance company won't pay—and we'll probably have some community service time. Probably to help the Black Dragons fix the place up."

"Yeah," Kim said, taking another step forward and placing a reassuring hand on Milton's shoulder. "Jack's right, I mean, he of all people should know."

I shot Kim a look, knowing that she was referencing something I'd told her had happened to me before I moved to Seaford, part of the reason why my mom was so upset about us going to the police department. I may have been to a police department once before thanks to a prank gone awry with a couple of rebel kids who I'd _thought _were my friends when they really were a bunch of users and jerks. For a while I was pretty upset that they'd set me up as their scapegoat but eventually I got them back with the help of the new friends I'd made after I'd dumped the jerks, clearing my name in the process.

"We're not going to a juvenile detention center, Milton." Kim said firmly, ignoring my look. "Don't be an idiot—that's Jerry's and Eddie's job."

"_Hey!_" Eddie glared at Kim, but she ignored his look too.

"B-b-b-but," Milton gazed at Kim, Eddie and I helplessly. "But even if we don't go to a juvenile detention center as penance for the crime we supposedly committed, the fact that we've even been accused of vandalising the Black Dragon's dojo will have a negative effect on our lives! If we end up having to do community service, we'll have a _criminal record!_ We will _all _have a criminal record and do you know what _that_ means?"

Kim and I exchanged a glance and Kim began to speak, "Well—"

"It means that everywhere we go our criminal record will follow us! It will be on our permanent records that we went vandalised a dojo! Our permanent record will say that we committed a crime we know for a fact that we did not commit! I am not sure about you guys, but I still want to go to university—an _Ivy League _university—and there's _no way _that I am going to get in with this on my record!"

I raised an eyebrow at Milton. "Uh dude, I don't think that's how—"

"All my Ivy League dreams—all my dreams of getting accepted into Brown, Columbia, Princeton, Harvard or Yale_—_they're all _gone!_ They'll be dashed away if we're convicted!" Milton moaned. "And not _only_ that! Think about what affect this whole thing will have on my relationship with Julie! Our relationship is too new to go under this sort of strain!"

I suddenly felt really bad for Milton.

Julie had been away for the past two or three weeks visiting her parents in Europe and was returning tomorrow, Sunday. It kinda sucked how the very first thing she'd hear when she'd get back was that her boyfriend had totally destroyed her uncle's dojo. Yes, Julie was _Ty's_ niece. Not exactly the best _Welcome Back_ present and if Julie reacted to the news the way she had when she witnessed Milton and Kim's totally platonic kiss—yeah, I heard the story. I wasn't the biggest fan of the _kiss_ but I was definitely a fan of Julie's _epic_ tackles—then Milton was going to be in some serious trouble.

I moved around to the other side of Milton and placed my hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "Milton, we're not going to let anything happen to yours and Julie's relationship."

"Sure as heck we're not," Kim said firmly. "I worked _really_ hard to get you two together and there is no _way_ that I'm going to let the stupid vandals break you two up no matter what! Your love for Julie is—"

"An epic storm of _Nerd Love_," I finished with a smirk and Kim shot me a dirty look.

"No," she said pointedly. "It's a—"

"_¡Jérald Martínez, juro por mi vida que después de esto, nunca verá la luz del nuevo día!_"

It seemed as if the Martinez family had arrived.

The four of us turned around and peered through the waiting room door, wondering what exactly was going on in the lobby.

We heard Ms. Martinez long before we even saw her. She was angrily screaming something in Spanish, words spilling out of her mouth at a rapid pace. She was speaking so fast that I was pretty sure that even Milton would have trouble keeping up with her Spanish. Then a couple seconds after her voice, we finally got to see Ms. Martinez...dragging Jerry into the police department by the ear.

Barely audible over Ms. Martinez's loud Spanish was Jerry's squeals of pain. Each time his mom yanked on his ear, Jerry let out a yelp that was louder than the one before and I didn't blame him. His mom's ear-pulls looked a lot more painful than one of Jerry's wedgies. While he tried to separate himself from his mother, Jerry spoke in fragmented Spanish, his sentences broken up by his periodic shrieks of torment.

A minute, a receptionist, a cop and two _more_ cops later, the police were finally able to separate Jerry and his mom. Two of the cops ushered a still raging Ms. Martinez towards the parental waiting room and the other sent Jerry towards us.

Despite just being through what looked like a totally traumatizing experience, Jerry made his way towards Eddie, Milton and I with a lopsided smile. The only sign of his previous pain was the fact that he was rubbing his sore, red earlobe.

"Hey guys—_whoa..._" Jerry stopped short right at the entrance of the room. He gave the four of us a quick once over. "What's going on here?"

Kim and I wearily exchanged a glance before turning back towards Jerry. We both asked, "What do you _think_ is going on?"

Jerry cautiously took a step forward as if the four of us were about to lunge at him in any second. "I dunno. Milton looks completely wrecked right now...Eddie looks like he's about to pee his pants...Jack, bro, you should hit up some chicken noodle 'cause you look like you're catching something ugly...and Kim…" Jerry's face suddenly paled and his eyes widened in shock. "_Girl_, your face is _jacked up!_"

Two pairs of eyes immediately flew to Kim's face.

"_Whoa_..." Eddie gasped, leaning forward to examine Kim's cheek. "_Dude_...is it bad that I_ just_ noticed that your face is seriously bruised? Does it hurt?"

Kim shot him a disgusted look, obviously tempted to roll her eyes. "Of course it does, Genius—no wait, you're not one."

"Kim," Milton shrugged off Kim's and my reassuring hand and moved away from us, turning around to face the blonde. His face paled at the sight of Kim's cheek, just like Jerry's did, and he completely forgot all his worries about the arrest and was now panicking over Kim's bruise. "_GAH!_ Kim, what happened to your face? Who did this to you?"

Remembering what the attacker had told Kim they'd do if she told anyone the real reason behind her bruised cheek and also keeping in mind that Kim had already broken her promise by telling me, Kim and I nervously exchanged a glance before we both blurted, "No one did it!"

Milton, Eddie and Jerry flinched back from us.

"She fell," I said at the exact same time Kim said, "I hit my face on a table."

Milton rolled his eyes at us. "Okay then...now that the world's worst liar and the kid who swears to 'tell the truth, only the truth and nothing but the truth' have told us their version of how Kim received her injury, let's hear Kim and Jack's version, shall we?"

"We are telling the truth," I shot Kim a look and she nodded at me to go on. "Kim tripped over at my place...and hit her face on a table...right, Kim?"

"Yeah, that's _exactly_ what happened!" Kim squeaked, sounding just a little _too_ enthusiastic. "I was being an idiot and I tripped over my own feet and face-planted on a table! It was a total accident! No one caused it! It was just me being a klutz! So weird, but so true! I just pulled a _Jerry!_ It was just a—_EEEKKK!_"

Kim let out a high pitched squeak when I elbowed her in an attempt to shut her up, gently so I wouldn't puncture her kidney like she'd tried to do to me yesterday. When I removed my elbow from her side, she immediately smacked me in the shoulder—_hard_—and glared at me, all pink at making such a 'girly' noise.

"Wow...you two _suck_ at lying." Jerry snickered while I groaned in pain.

"_Ow..._" I whined, wincing while I rubbed my shoulder and then rotated it a couple times. "Ugh, that really hurt. Kimmy, how many times do I have to tell you that violence is _not_ the answer?"

Kim gazed at me coolly and I saw her right eye twitch at the hated nickname. "As many times as it takes for you to realize that—"

"_YOU GUYS ARE CRAZY!_"

All five of us literally jumped at the sound of Rudy's voice, way too freaked to claim that our unusually high pitched screams were just the latest in 'Columbian War Cries', and immediately whipped around to face our Sensei.

"God Rudy, way to give us a—" At the sight of our sensei, the guys and I flinched and Kim immediately fell silent. Together we unanimously took one, ginormous step backwards.

If I thought Milton looked crazy then clearly I was wrong because right now, Rudy looked absolutely, one hundred percent _insane_.

Judging by the way he was dressed, Rudy had rushed over to the police department the minute he'd received the phone call or something. He had come storming in wearing a _bathrobe_ and _Bobby Wasabi_ pyjama pants with matching, bright green bedroom slippers. His hair looked a lot crazier than Milton's considering the fact that it was sticking up in all sorts of strange angles like he hadn't washed the gel out before he went to bed and this was the freaky result. Then to top off the whole look, Rudy looked stark raving mad and by _mad_ I didn't only mean _crazy_ but also _angry_; super angry.

"WHAT ON EARTH WERE YOU GUYS _THINKING_?" Rudy screeched.

He looked almost cartoonish in a _Rage Face_ way with his eyes wild and face red in what I assumed was pure anger or something along those lines. I don't think that I'd ever seen Rudy so upset before. He was usually on the receiving end of my or the other Wasabi Warriors' rage; we were rarely the victims of his. Sure he'd gotten pretty upset with us before, but he'd _never_ been this mad at us for as long as I'd known him.

I mean, Rudy was practically foaming at the mouth as he took three giant steps forward, causing us to take another big step back. "I'll ask you guys again...WHAT ON _EARTH_ WERE YOU THINKING WHEN YOU VANDALIZED THE BLACK DRAGON'S DOJO? ARE YOU GUYS _INSANE? _HAVE YOU ALL LOST YOUR _MINDS?_"

The five of us nervously exchanged glances, wondering if this was another one of Rudy's rhetorical questions which would result in some random—but in no way good—consequences for us if we decided to answer. My mom and I had played this game thousands of times—mainly when she got _super_ upset with me—and I usually lost. But when playing it with Rudy, the odds of losing were definitely less than when playing with my mom, so really it could go either way with him.

Before any of us could decide whether Rudy's question was rhetorical or not and whether we really wanted to put our lives on the line by answering Rudy, our favourite Sensei started speaking—well, _screaming_ at us.

"_WELL ANSWER ME!_" Rudy shrieked as he stomped forward. "WHAT ON _EARTH _WERE YOU GUYS—and Kim—THINKING WHEN YOU VANDALIZED THE BLACK DRAGON'S DOJO?"

We were all silent for a minute. None of us could respond mostly because Rudy's nasty morning breath was well on its way to suffocating us. Eddie stumbled backwards and clamped a hand over his nose, with Milton choking on his own breath at the smell of Rudy's. Even though I could barely breathe through my own nose, I could totally smell Rudy's breath so I took a step backwards and tried my best to look unfazed by how bad his morning breath smelled.

Apparently Rudy hadn't showered, shampooed, gotten dressed _or _brushed his teeth before coming here to yell at us about something we _obviously _didn't do.

"God Rudy," Kim waved a hand in front of her nose. "Did you even _bother _brushing your teeth this morning? Your breath smells absolutely _rancid_. Like, ugh."

"Seriously dude, your breath smells worse than Kim's when she eats—_OW!_" Jerry shot Kim a dirty look as he rubbed the spot where Kim had smacked him. Jerry looked as if he was about to say something more, but Kim's death glare silenced him as did Rudy's facial expression.

He'd somehow become even redder than before. "_NO_, NO I DID _NOT!_ AND DO YOU KNOW WHY? DO YOU PEOPLE KNOW WHY I DIDN'T GET A CHANCE TO BRUSH MY TEETH THIS MORNING?"

"Because you didn't have time to?" Eddie offered, sounding kinda funny since he had his hand over his nose.

"IT WAS BECAUSE I DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO!" Rudy screeched. "I DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO BRUSH MY TEETH...OR SHOWER FOR THAT MATTER! AND DO YOU KNOW _WHY_ I DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO? IT'S BECAUSE I GOT A PHONECALL, LIKE, THIRTY MINUTES AGO STATING THAT THE KIDS FROM _MY _DOJO HAD BEEN ARRESTED FOR VANDALISM AND I HAD TO BE AT THE POLICE DEPARTMENT BY NINE-TEN AM TO TALK TO SOME COPS ABOUT THE INCIDENT! AND DO YOU KNOW HOW FAR AWAY FROM HERE I LIVE?"

"Thirty minutes," I stated instead of asking, rolling my eyes.

"I LIVE _THIRTY MINUTES_ AWAY FROM HERE!" Rudy shrieked. "I LIVE THIRTY MINUTES AWAY FROM HERE AND I ONLY HAD THIRTY MINUTES TO GET HERE! THIRTY MINUTES, PEOPLE! _THIRTY MINUTES!_"

The Wasabi Warriors and I all exchanged confused glances with each other. What on earth did the whole thirty minute' thing have to do with our arrests? But before any of us could ask him what the 'thirty minute' thing meant, Rudy had already started shrieking again.

"I SHOULDN'T HAVE HAD TO BE HERE AT NINE-TEN AM! I SHOULDN'T HAVE HAD TO BE HERE AT ALL UNLESS IT WAS IN REGARD TO WHO HAD VANDALISED _OUR _DOJO! BUT _NO! _I HAD TO BE HERE AT NINE-TEN AM BECAUSE YOU GUYS CHOSE TO DO SOMETHING TOTALLY _STUPID!_ SO WHAT ON EARTH WERE YOU GUYS THINKING WHEN YOU VANDALIZED SOMEONE ELSE'S DOJO? SERIOUSLY, WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU GUYS! WHAT WERE YOU—"

"_Nothing_," Kim finally snapped, getting absolutely sick of Rudy's ranting and I could completely understand why. All his yelling was doing was making my headache—from hitting my head against the car window earlier—a whole lot worse, and I could only imagine the headache Kim had thanks to the giant bruise the size of Texas which was currently trying to eat her face from the left side across. "We weren't thinking of _anything _because _we_ didn't do it!"

"THAT'S RIGHT! YOU GUYS WEREN'T THINKING OF ANYTHING BECAUSE...wait..._what?_" Rudy immediately fell silent and gazed at the five of us in confusion.

"_She said_, we weren't thinking of anything because we didn't do it." I said calmly, taking a step forwards. "Rudy come on, you know us better than anyone else in this stupid place aside from our parents—maybe. Do you _really _think that we did something as bad as this? I mean, right after our own dojo was completely destroyed by some random buttholes who thought it would be hilarious to trash the best place in the mall to hang out?"

Rudy gazed at us helplessly. He looked really confused. "B-b-b-but, the police said—"

"That they had evidence against us?" Milton offered. "That they had evidence which supposedly supported the theory of us vandalising the Black Dragon's dojo? Rudy, did it _ever _occur to you that the evidence the police spoke of may be..._fraudulent?_ That we have been arrested under fraudulent claims?"

"Well..."

"No! Of _course _you didn't!" Kim hissed. "You just decided that whatever the police said just _had _to be true, and the very idea of us being innocent was about as impossible as catching chicken pox twice. Newsflash Rudy, I caught chicken pox _twice!_"

"Hey, that's _totally _not true!" Rudy said, now on the defensive. "I did consider the fact that you guys, you know, may be innocent..."

"For, like, five minutes." Kim muttered under her breath and Rudy turned red probably out of embarrassment this time.

"That's not true. I actually did...kinda...sorta...consider the idea of you guys being innocent for more than five minutes..." Even though Rudy was still acting pretty defensive, his argument came off as really weak.

"Oh, so let me guess. You took our innocence into consideration for _six_ minutes." Kim said sarcastically. "My mistake,"

"_Kim_," I said warningly as I shot her a look, but she ignored me. I couldn't blame Kim for being upset because I probably would've been a lot more upset about Rudy not trusting us if my mom hadn't talked to me about how her trust was being seriously tested last night after yelling at me for over an hour, but being rude to Rudy wasn't really helping anything.

Actually, it was starting to make things worse.

"Kim, I did think about the arrest and I did think about you guys being innocent—for _more_ than _six minutes_. But the police had evidence against you guys and they said it was video evidence. I tried to convince myself that you guys hadn't done it, but come on? Why would anyone try to frame you guys in the first place?"

Rudy gazed at us questioningly, and the Warriors and I all guiltily exchanged glances. We had an idea of why someone would want to frame us, but Rudy didn't. I felt kinda bad about not being able to tell Rudy what was going on and I had a feeling that the other Wasabi Warriors felt the exact same way.

"Yeah exactly," Rudy snapped when we didn't respond. "I couldn't come up with a logical reason why anyone would want to frame you guys. You guys haven't done _anything _to the Black Dragons—that I know of—and the Black Dragon's aren't stupid enough to destroy their own equipment just for a cheap thrill; to get you guys in trouble as some sort of twisted revenge. It would make much more sense for them to destroy our dojo if they want revenge for something."

The Warriors and I warily exchanged glances at Rudy's comment on the Black Dragons, but we said nothing. Rudy's comment obviously had to be a coincidence, right?

"So that's why I stormed in here like a madman." Rudy finally turned off his angry, defensive mode. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "I tried to reason with myself and it wasn't working, so I got frustrated and then upset and then you kinda know what happened next."

"Yeah," Eddie nodded. "We kinda do."

"And I'm sorry for it. I should have spoken to you guys about what happened instead of storming in here and going off at you." Rudy gazed at us apologetically. "It wasn't fair of me to automatically accuse you guys of the crime just because I heard that there was 'evidence' of you guys doing it. Like Milton said, maybe the tape is a fake."

"Rudy, that tape is _definitely _a fake." I said firmly. "We'd never do something that would dishonour the dojo or break the Wasabi Code, and I'm pretty sure that trashing the Black Dragon's dojo does both."

The corners of Rudy's mouth turned up a bit. "Right, it does do both."

"Yeah and since Jack lives and breathes the Wasabi Code, he obviously didn't trash the Black Dragon's dojo 'cause it means he has to break the Code." Kim said, giving me a little smirk, and I rolled my eyes at her.

"And the others didn't do it either." I clarified. "Milton's a stickler for rules and won't do _anything_ that would prevent him from going to Yale with Julie. Kim, well, if she did it she definitely wouldn't have been caught. And if Eddie and Jerry _actually_ did it, they would've been caught right from the—oh come _on,_ dude! Don't give me that look!"

Rudy finally cracked a full smile. "Yeah, you guys _do _have a point. Milton actually doing something _this_ rebellious does sound kinda weird. Again, I'm really sorry for storming in here like a madman."

"Hey, Rudy it's cool. No biggie. At least you stopped yelling at us. I don't think that I've heard this much screaming in one day since the last _UGHHH_ album came out." Jerry said with a shrug, and the rest of us shot him a confused look.

"Moving on," Milton said, giving Jerry a pointed look. "We accept your apology, Rudy."

"Milton's right." I agreed. "We forgive you and we totally understand why you freaked out like that. It must have been tough trying to figure out what to believe—an actual video or our word. If I were in your place, I'd be pretty frustrated too."

"Same here," The other Warriors echoed.

"And," Kim added, "Now that we've all made up I'd suggest a group hug or something, but Rudy your breath _really_ smells..."

"Yeah, okay. I got it." Rudy said, rolling his eyes. "I'll brush my teeth and then we'll get talking about group hugs. Anyway, I _did_ have enough time this morning to talk to Mr. Turner about the situation since he called to confirm Arthur's visit. And thanks to your arrests, Mr. Turner decided to postpone Arthur's visit for tomorrow morning. He said that we had a lot going on and didn't want to you guys to feel too stressed out...or something like that..."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. Since when was Arthur supposed to come and visit? The last time he'd come to visit was to 'apologize' for almost knocking down our dojo with brownies which turned out to be laced with laxatives. After the laxative thing, I was sure that Arthur wasn't going to come back again since he'd gotten his 'revenge'—which would've been fine by me since I never wanted to see that spoiled little brat again—but apparently, he _was_ coming back.

I turned to look at Kim, hoping that she'd fill me in on the _Arthur Visit_, but she was way too agitated to notice my confused look.

"Wait...wait...wait...did you say tomorrow, as in tomorrow _morning?_" Kim asked worriedly.

Jerry snorted and rolled his eyes at Kim. "Dudette, I think your supersized bruise is starting to affect your brain. Seriously Kim, how many _tomorrows_ are there? Even I know that there's only one..."

Kim ignored Jerry, not even bothering to shoot him a dirty look or anything. Instead, she kept her eyes focused on Rudy, desperately waiting for his answer. "...Rudy?"

Rudy nodded. "Yes Kim, Arthur's coming in to apologize tomorrow morning."

Kim's eyes widened slightly and she suddenly became frantic. "But Rudy tomorrow is Sunday. I volunteer at the hospital as a candy striper on Sunday mornings and last week I promised a little girl in the paediatric ward that I'd finish reading her favourite book to her tomorrow. Please Rudy, you've got to let me skip out on the whole Arthur/apology thing tomorrow. I can't miss my session with the little girl. It'll break her heart!"

Rudy gazed at Kim apologetically. "I'm really sorry, Kim, but you have to come to the dojo tomorrow. I know that you don't exactly like Arthur but we _all _have to be there. The meeting probably won't even take that long and I'm pretty sure that the girl will understand if you're a little late, right?"

"I guess..." Kim said uncertainly. It was pretty clear that Kim was very upset over the fact that she couldn't miss Arthur's visit, but I had a feeling that the reason she was so upset wasn't because she had to deal with Arthur again, but because she wasn't able to meet up with the little girl in the paediatric ward to finish reading her story to her. If this was the same little girl I thought she was thinking of, I completely understood why she was so upset.

I gave Kim's shoulder a reassuring squeeze and Kim gave me a small smile in return.

"Everything will work out tomorrow," I said firmly. "You'll see."

Kim sighed. "I sure hope it does. Sophie is really important to me—don't tell Henry I said that—and I can't let her down. Besides, if I do let Soph down, her brother will probably kill me."

I gave Kim a gentle nudge. "Oh come on, Kim. He wouldn't—"

"_Knock, knock, knock..._"

Both Kim and I immediately looked up and turned around to face the source of the voice, and the other guys followed suit. The voice seemed to belong to the guy who stood in the middle of the waiting room doorway, a manila envelope tucked under his arm.

Judging by the way he was dressed, I think that it was safe to say that this guy was a cop here at the San Jose Police Department. He gave us a half-smile which looked almost _friendly _instead of creepy as he casually walked into the room. He stopped a couple inches away from us and pulled the envelope out from under his arm.

The cop opened up the manila envelope and pulled out a small file. He flipped the file open and quickly scanned the top piece of paper. "Are you teenagers the members of the Bobby Wasabi Martial Arts Academy who have been accused of breaking into and vandalizing the Black Dragon's Martial Arts Academy; Jack Brewer, Kimberly Crawford, Edward Jones, Milton Krupnick and Jérald Martinez?"

The five of us exchanged anxious glances before soundlessly nodding at the cop.

The cop bobbed his head in approval. "Good. I'm Officer Riggs and I'll be the one questioning you five today. Follow me please."

We exchanged glances again before nodding hesitantly. We wordlessly waved goodbye to Rudy, who sombrely waved back at us, and followed to the cop out of the waiting room and down one of the police department hallways.

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><p><strong>* AN ***

**Ah, so how long has it been since I last updated "Vandals Anonymous"? The last update I made to this story was in October and now it's April. It's been almost exactly six months since this story was updated and I apologize deeply for not updating for such an extended period of time. I did decide to take a break on this story, but I never meant for this break to go on for so long. I assure you that I never meant to go on a six month hiatus and I feel absolutely terrible for it. **

**The main reason for the hiatus was that I felt as if I had no inspiration to write. I felt exhausted after finishing the last "Vandals Anonymous" chapter as if the chapter had sucked all the inspiration out of me. I actually didn't write anything for an extremely long time following the VA chapter. It was only later when I updated "The _GAME_" and posted my new "Austin & Ally" story, "Tutors & Tutees".**

**...And now, after writing six editions of this chapter, I have finally updated "Vandals Anonymous".**

**Now onto the actual story...**

**This chapter was, more or less, a filler. Nothing particularly monumental occurred in the duration of this chapter. Quite frankly, this chapter was more for me than it was for you guys. The intent of the chapter, aside from providing my precious readers something to gush over, was to help me get back into the vibe of writing for "Vandals Anonymous". **

**I haven't written for this story in so long and so much has happened on the show in the last six months. On the show, character personas have been explored and further developed and now I have to blend these new character traits in with what I have already established in my story. I also have to try to get back into writing in a "humorous, yet serious" light. Balancing the two out can be quite difficult especially considering how serious these next couple chapters may be. An upcoming chapter will contain, _The BLACKOUT_, which you will learn more about later...**

**Anyway, the next chapter is pretty much done except I'm doing a couple re-writes so it should be up within the next two weeks. It will feature the kids actually in the interrogation room where a _couple_ things will be revealed; _including_ who the vid-cam images were being transmitted to...remember this from last chapter?**

**Now that you all know that I'm still alive and will continue to update, _au revoir! Je vous aime tous!_**

**ALPHA**

**PS: Hey, does anyone remember the band "_UGHHH_"? It's one of Jerry's favourite bands and came from another beloved Disney show. Tell me which show it came from in your reviews!**


	13. Chapter 12

*** A/N ***

**Hey there, it's ALPHA with the twelfth chapter of my beloved "Kickin' It" mystery FanFic, _Vandals Anonymous_, and I'd just like to say that today is the one year anniversary of _Vandals Anonymous!_ Today is exactly one year from the day I posted VA and you guys don't know how happy I am about that. I am honestly ecstatic right now.**

**As usual, there is a longer A/N at the bottom of this chapter and I'd prefer it if people actually reviewed alongside favouriting and alerting. With this chapter I just know that I'll make it to two hundred reviews, however I am interested in how quickly we can make it to two fifty. So please review, if not for me than in honor of today being VA's first birthday!**

**_DISCLAIMER_****: I do not, under _any _circumstances, own the characters or places mentioned in _Disney XD_'s "Kickin' It". **

**Also, this chapter is dedicated to _Disneyluver89_, one of my biggest fans ;)**

* * *

><p><strong>* <span>JACK BREWER<span> ***

Unfortunately, due to the order of our last names, I was supposed to be the first of the Warriors to enter the interrogation room with Officer Riggs.

The rest of the gang were supposed to take a seat in the plastic chairs just outside the interrogation room and quietly wait for my interrogation to end. They weren't allowed to leave their chairs, much less go anywhere. If they did, Officer Riggs suggested that the two cops he had stationed on either end of the hallway would be on them like pitbulls.

"But what if we have to go to the bathroom?" Jerry curiously questioned, his left eyebrow arching high over its corresponding eye. "When you gotta go, you gotta go...but how _can_ we go if your cop buddies are gonna get all up on our jocks about getting up and moving around. I know _I'm_ going to have to use the bathroom soon since I had a _Super Big Gulp_ to wake myself up this totally _swag_ morning. Milton too, since he has the bladder the size of a walnut..."

"Leave my bladder out of this, Jerry!" Milton snapped tensely, shooting daggers at Jerry. He was still on edge about the whole interrogation thing and his nerves were starting to take a toll on his mood, making him way more touchy and irritable than before. He was acting _exactly_ like Kim when it was her time of the month...or _any _day of the month really.

Officer Riggs chuckled lightly as he thumbed the edge of the file he protectively held against his chest. "Mr. Martinez, do not worry. You and your friends will be allowed to use the police department facilities should you ever feel the need to. However, you must ask one of the police officers to escort you there and back. It's nothing serious; just a precautionary procedure to ensure that you don't run away. The only time you will not be allowed to use the facilities is during your interrogation."

"_Gracias a Dios!_" Jerry exclaimed with a grin, but his grin quickly turned into a smirk as another thought dawned on him. "Well Jack, bro, looks like you're out of luck since you're heading into the lion's den first. Speak now or forever hold your pee."

I rolled my eyes and laughed tensely as he pat me on the shoulder with false sympathy, playfully shoving him back. "Shut up, dude. All this talk about bathrooms is making me have to go."

Officer Riggs smiled and shook his head at Jerry and his antics before shifting his attention back to the rest of us. "Any other questions before we part?" He asked.

Choosing to actually answer Officer Riggs' question while the rest of us just shook our heads, Milton nervously blurted, "Do we need lawyers?"

The cop gave Milton a sympathetic look, pretty well aware of how absolutely terrified he was of just standing in vicinity of the interrogation room. "If this case ends up going to court you will be allowed to have a lawyer, Mr. Krupnick. However, I can assure you that we will not be going to court. If things go smoothly, we can settle everything right in here without the need of a judge."

Milton visibly became less tense at Officer Riggs answer and content with the fact that Milton had seemingly relaxed, Officer Riggs nodded in approval. With a final nod he shifted his attention to the rest of the Warriors and me, and said, "Now, will _that _be all?"

The five of us nodded and acknowledging our answer, Officer Riggs said, "Alright then, if that will be all, Mr. Brewer I'd like you to follow me please. The rest of you should have a seat."

I swallowed hard, feeling the nerves I'd tried to suppress for the past couple minutes crawl up into my stomach, forcing an unwanted wave of nausea over me.

The reality of the situation at hand had finally hit me hard on our long, weaving walk to the interrogation room, leaving me feeling unusually edgy and tense. I rarely—if ever—got nervous, but when I did I become a _little _crazy—or _human_, as my mom liked to call it.

Even though I'd been through something similar to this before I still felt kinda nervous, which I guess was sort of understandable. I didn't know too many people who'd be comfortable entering an interrogation room, no matter how many times they'd done it, if they were innocent and were being accused of a crime they didn't commit.

At the doorway of the interrogation room, I turned to face the other Warriors and was slightly surprised to see them staring at me with worried looks in their eyes. They looked more as though Officer Riggs had been leading me to my ultimate doom than into the room just down and across the hall from them.

In an attempt to cool their nerves I shelved my own and shot them a cocky wink, mouthing that everything would be alright, as I slid into the room and tried to maintain my cool demeanour.

Despite my instincts, I couldn't become manic in a situation like this and risk being tossed in a loony bin. I had a turtle back home that needed me. Who else was going to feed him since my mom certainly wasn't going to? I was surprised she'd even managed to remember to feed _me _before I was capable of making myself a snack or two. Seriously. I was even _more_ surprised that I'd actually _lived_ after eating the homecooked meals she'd made when we couldn't afford microwavable meals since she had virtually _no_ cooking ability whatsoever.

Now it was either me or my grandfather who made meals at our house. We rarely allowed my mom in the kitchen to make a simple sandwich.

My worries of becoming manic soon faded after I entered the interrogation room, the majority of my nerves soon leaving me.

The interrogation room looked nothing like I'd expected it to be. While I wasn't exactly sure just _what_ I'd been expecting, I knew I definitely hadn't been expecting the room to look so much like the detention room at school.

I felt more like I was going to explain why I was in Saturday Detention—again—to Mrs. Granger, instead of why I shouldn't be doing community service to Officer Riggs.

The walls of the interrogation room were an off-white colour, which looked a lot more pee-stained thanks to the sunlight which streamed through the small heavily barred window, and the linoleum floors clearly hadn't been waxed in a while judging by all the scuffmarks all over the floor—exactly like the school detention room.

The biggest difference between the two rooms was the fact that there weren't twenty-five desks in the interrogation room—much less Jerry spitballing Mrs. Granger while she napped, or Randy Plotski doodling dirty pictures on the whiteboards—but instead a small table, two chairs and a large flatscreen TV sitting over top a VCR.

Aside from these differences, the two rooms were pretty much the exact same and the false sense of familiarity actually cooled my nerves. While I still felt a little uneasy in the room, I definitely didn't feel as tense and as nervous as I had before.

Officer Riggs quietly shut the door behind me and quickly made his way across the room. He stopped in front of the flatscreen TV and put his file down, gesturing for me to sit down in the chair across the table from him.

Not wanting to get on Officer Riggs' bad side, I did what he said—motioned—whatever and quickly sat down.

After making sure that I was settled, Officer Riggs sat down and flipped his file open, scanning through its papers and documents, and I eyed the file with interest.

I wondered what had been typed up in the file. Obviously there was information on me and the rest of the gang, but what had been said about the vandalism? Did it state how bad the Black Dragon's dojo had been trashed, or that the vandalism of their dojo had been similar to the vandalism of ours? Were there clues hidden in the text which would relate to our case?

There was a slight chance that it listed who had been among the first at the scene of the crime after it had been committed. While it could've just been Ty who'd entered the dojo the morning after, nothing said that no one had been there with him. Maybe the person who had been with him knew something about what had happened that night. I mean, if they were there first, what was to say that they hadn't been there last?

Discreetly, I craned my neck and quickly scanned the page Officer Riggs had been staring at for the last couple minutes. I was a little disappointed though because there was nothing really juicy there from what I could read.

The specific page Officer Riggs was on just listed our names and a couple other things about us such as our birthdates and appearances; nothing notable and definitely not vandals related.

I sat back in my seat in defeat, hoping that I'd be able to catch something other than Kim's awkward middle name—which I was _so _going to blackmail her with—on the next page Officer Riggs flipped to.

Unfortunately for me that opportunity never came since Officer Riggs had folded his hands over the file almost immediately after he'd turned the page. From the little that I could see, this page definitely had stuff related to the case since I could see the word _evidence_ peeking out from underneath his fist. I let out a silent groan in frustration.

Seemingly unaware of my frustration with his freaking fist, Officer Riggs asked, "So you know why you're here?"

I raised an eyebrow. Not too sure if the question was rhetorical or not, I took my chances and nodded yes.

"Good," Officer Riggs removed his hands from the file and began reading it again. "It says here in your record that you've had a run in with the police before, but it led to nothing due to the incriminating circumstances being nothing more than a misunderstanding."

"Yeah, that's right." I said, briefly wondering how the cops had stumbled across that little piece of information since I'd been told that everything in relation to that incident had been swiped from my record.

"I see..." Officer Riggs said more to himself than to me. But before I could start reading the 'evidence' page, Officer Riggs had folded his hands over the file and had begun speaking again. "You know, Mr. Brewer, I believe that I may know your mother. It is said here that Catherine Brewer is your legal guardian and your biological mother, but I seem to recognize the name elsewhere. Does she know anyone by the name of Shanna? Shanna Davidson, perhaps?"

I wracked my brain for the answer to the cop's question. While the name did sound really familiar to me as if I'd heard it a thousand times, I struggled to match the face up to the name. My mom had introduced me to a bazillion of her old Seaford girlfriends after we'd moved back here, but they'd all seemed to look alike and had similar names so was it really surprising that I was having so much trouble remembering which chic had been Shanna?

Eventually I just nodded, deciding that Shanna was the hot blonde who swung by every once in a while to convince my mom to hit up a club with her despite the fact that they were both, like, thirty just so they could hook up with unsuspecting twenty year olds who honestly thought they were their age. And at my confirmation Officer Riggs immediately lit up.

"Ah ha!" He exclaimed, "I knew you were Catherine's son. She used to send me photographs of you back when we were still in contact. I believe I still have that one of you and her when you were about four; all dressed up like a princess. She said that for a short period of time you wanted to be a princess, not a prince, but a _princess_. God, I wonder where that photograph is?"

My face burned. My 'princess' phase was one of those embarrassing things I'd like to forget but my mom liked to spread around. She said that she enjoyed telling the story—and sending the pictures—only because it was the one time she'd ever felt like she had a daughter, but I honestly thought it was so she could humiliate me in front of people without me being able to do damage control.

"We met back in the day at an _Iron_ _Weasel_ concert and just clicked." Officer Riggs reminisced, and I began to feel a little uncomfortable. I wondered just how close they'd been before she'd decided to move us away. "Good lord, I was heartbroken when Catherine left Seaford. I thought I'd never see her again. But who would've thought good, old Pussy Cat would return to little, old Seaford after being away in the big city for so long?"

My eyebrows shot up as did the bile in my stomach.

_Pussy Cat?_

Ew. I supposed I'd just gotten my answer to the question of how close they'd been.

According to the affectionate, yet somewhat kinky nickname he'd given her and the fact that he still appeared to be quite hung up on my mom, they'd been extremely close in the past. And due to the fact that Officer Riggs also appeared to be my mom's type both physically and music wise, it was also safe to assume that they'd hooked up a couple times as well, as disgusting as it was to admit this.

It felt strange and uncomfortable sitting in front of one of my mom's past lovers, a man who even had photographs of me when I was younger, listening to him go off about his memories of my mom. While he didn't seem too creepy about his slight obsession, I still felt really uncomfortable.

I usually flipped guys who referred to my mom as a MILF or something—Jerry and Eddie included—but this I couldn't do anything about, not only because he was a cop and this was my interrogation, but also because he didn't really seem infatuated with my mom's hotness, but he actually really seemed to like her.

Luckily for me, Officer Riggs was finally able to move on from my mom, although I could sense that he was still feeling a little nostalgic. With a sigh he said, "Anyway, I would think that it's time for the actual interrogation to begin. Wouldn't you agree?"

I nodded, happy to get away from the awkwardness of being Catherine Brewer's son.

Officer Riggs bobbed his head and stood up, flipping the file closed before I even had a chance to do anything. Irritation flashed through me again.

He turned the TV on before reaching for the TV remote which sat on top of the VCR. Pointing the remote at the VCR, Officer Riggs pressed the _ON_ button and the VCR whirred to life. He then aimed at the VCR again and pressed the _PLAY_ button. It took a couple seconds, but eventually the screen flickered from black to white and the video footage filled the screen. With a satisfied smirk, the cop placed the remote on the table and sat down, leaning back in his chair to enjoy the film.

For the very first couple minutes of footage, the Black Dragon's dojo was empty.

There was literally nothing and no one in the Black Dragon's Martial Arts Academy. Everything had been neatly stowed away under lock and key—unlike everything in _our_ dojo, which was just shoved to the side or shoved into one or more of the previously broken lockers—and not a single thing was out of place or order. The dojo looked completely undisturbed—or at least it _did_.

It was around the three minute mark when I noticed the first sign of suspicious activity.

Thanks to the video camera's awkward angle and the fact that the footage and was filmed in the dark, I couldn't really see what exactly what was going on. But from the camera's limited view of the door, I _could_ tell that someone was standing right outside the dojo's glass doors and I guessed that this someone was trying to pick the lock. But couple seconds later the figure flinched away from the door and the glass shattered into a bazillion pieces like my grandfather's _ancient_, antique porcelain plates—which I totally did _not_ drop when I was helping him unpack from his trip to Japan—falling on the ground like glitter. A second later another—but more fem looking—figure slid into view. Twisting their arm around, the person shoved their hand through the hole I guessed they'd made in the door and swivelled the lock around. The person then slid their arm out of the hole and pulled the door open with ease.

As weird as it was to admit this, this seemed almost _exactly_ like how the Warriors and I would've broken into the place—not saying that we _did_ or anything. It just seemed so _us_ to have one person try to pick the lock and another just break the glass to get in. If it _had_ been us we would've had Jerry try to pick the lock, while he bragged about doing it loads of times, with Kim finally getting frustrated with Jerry's inability break in and deciding to take matters into her own hands.

Either these people had their own 'Jerry' and 'Kim' on their hands, or they knew us _far_ too well for our own good.

Around the three minute and forty second mark, things really started to pick up since at that exact moment four figures had marched into the dojo. The four were immediately followed by the fem person, who closed the door behind them. They all leapt over the shattered glass with agile ease as they entered.

Luckily, now that they were inside the dojo I could see the figures much more clearly.

Judging by his haircut and the way he was dressed, I guessed that the guy who'd led the group into the dojo was supposed to be me, and followed by my poser was Eddie's, Milton's and then Jerry's, with Kim's poser bringing up the rear with a flip of her long blonde hair.

I had to admit that despite a couple differences—such as the fact that Eddie's poser was a little too tall, Jerry's poser was way too skinny and reminded me of a rat, and Kim's poser had _way_ longer hair than she did—the posers _did_ look a _lot _like us.

Now I could sort of see why _we'd_ been accused—which was a _really_ bad thing.

Clearly these people weren't just amateurs; they knew _exactly_ what they were doing.

They'd been careful to match their appearances to ours as closely as they could, making sure that they'd all worn gloves so their fingerprints couldn't be traced if things looked too suspicious, and they'd hidden their faces from the cameras with expertise. Clearly they'd known exactly where all the cameras had been in the dojo, since they'd known exactly how to avoid being seen—even as they'd actually vandalized the Black Dragon's dojo.

This meant it was going to be a lot harder than I'd thought to prove that we were innocent—and that was only under the assumption that I didn't screw up now and the other Warriors didn't mess up their interrogations either.

This basically meant that Milton couldn't have a total meltdown, Jerry couldn't get confused to the point of accidently confessing to something he didn't do, Eddie couldn't stumble over his answers—which would make him look suspicious—and Kim most definitely could _not_ have a screaming match with Officer Riggs.

Even though I liked to look at the brighter side of things, in my opinion the likelihood of none of these ever happening didn't look particularly too good.

My stomach turned when the video footage finally streamed to a stop. While the images on the flatscreen had faded to black, they continued to play in my mind. I kept on going over the vandalism, trying to find an error—_any_ error—which could unmask the real vandals and set us free, but nothing came to mind.

The posers had been good—too good—at covering their tracks. Heck, they'd covered their tracks so well that even a ninja would've been impressed with the skills they'd used and probably would've begged for lessons on how to be so sly—James Bond too.

As I struggled to come up with an argument which would be far more convincing than the whole 'that wasn't me' thing, I shifted my eyes away from the dark TV screen and onto Officer Riggs face, flinching in surprise when his eyes met my own.

I wasn't sure if my fevered mind was playing tricks on me, but I swore that something in them had changed. His eyes had become less warm and more frosty, the friendliness of his gaze changing into something more predatory. His creeper smile gave me flashbacks to the previous night with the nasty cops which had stopped by my place. Their smiles had been similar to his current one.

Coolly with a smile which didn't reach his eyes, Officer Riggs asked, "So Mr. Brewer, are you ready to answer a couple questions?"

* * *

><p>My face was warm when I finally left the interrogation room and I was freaking peeved.<p>

The rest of the Warriors, who'd been anxiously waiting for me to reappear, had leapt up with a cheer the moment they'd seen me, initially alarming the cops Officer Riggs had stationed on either end of the long hallway. They'd been ready to go all pitbull on them, but once they'd realized that I'd returned and the Warriors hadn't decided to go all 'angry mob' on them, they'd calmed down and resumed their posts.

The Warriors crowded around me anxiously, asking me several questions about how the interrogation had gone, mentioning that they _had_ heard me raise my voice a couple times at Officer Riggs and wanted to know the reason behind it. They asked me a bazillion more questions before I told them to back off because they were making my headache worse and were starting to make me claustrophobic.

Kim shut the guys up and shooed them all away before turning back to me. "Okay, so what's the sitch? What the heck happened in there? I mean, you look about ready to snap; really frustrated and irate."

"Oh no, that's just how Jack always looks after dealing with people of authority." Jerry joked, earning a snicker or two from Eddie but a smack on the arm from Kim. "_Ow!_"

"Not now, Jerry." I begged, not wanting to get upset with Jerry. Unlike Kim, I actually tried my best not to take my frustration out on other people—training dummies were a whole other story, though. It wasn't fair to target them, especially if they had nothing to do with the source of my frustration in the first place.

Jerry mumbled an apology and Kim tried again, "Jack, seriously? What happened in the interrogation room?"

I gave them a quick little recap on everything that went down in the interrogation room, carefully leaving out certain details such as Officer Riggs' crush on my mom and the whole 'princess' thing, putting a little more detail into the description of the video footage so they knew what to expect.

They appeared to be every bit as surprised as I was at how well the posers had managed to hide their identities, even a little bit sceptical, although this was mostly just Kim and Milton.

But before we could actually discuss what the video footage meant for us, Officer Riggs materialized behind us.

We jumped when Officer Riggs loudly cleared his throat, once again too surprised to claim that our abnormally high pitched shrieks were the latest 'Columbian War Chants'.

He took a couple steps towards us, eying me suspiciously, but before I could hastily state that I hadn't been discussing my interrogation with the other Warriors, Officer Riggs had turned away from me and had begun eying Kim—well, her ginormous bruise.

"Miss Kimberly Crawford, I believe that you are next so please follow me. The rest of you should have a seat now."

The guys and I did as we were told and quickly found seats as Kim reluctantly followed Officer Riggs into the interrogation room with a silent groan.

In the doorway she paused and turned to look back at me and the guys, and I gave her a small smile of reassurance which she returned, before ducking into the room with a slam of the door.

* * *

><p>The guys and I flinched back when Kim stumbled out of the interrogation room looking the most upset I'd ever seen her in the course of our friendship—excepting that time she'd found out that I'd let her win a sparring match. Despite having been witness and victim to various spurts of untamed anger and rage from the blonde—I mean, I <em>still<em> ached where she'd hit me super hard with her skateboard a couple months ago—I'd never seen her look _this_ enraged, and judging by the terrified facial expressions on the other guys' faces, neither had they.

The guys and I sat in silence as we watched Kim pace back and forth, waiting for the fire in her dark eyes to finally die down.

We all knew from personal experience that talking to Kim when she was upset was basically just asking for her to throttle you; and if she was _this_ upset, talking to her would be a certified death sentence or something. And I wasn't sure about the other guys, but I didn't want to die just yet—although, in a couple hours when my cold worsened, I would probably prefer _death_ over _torture_.

About a minute or so later, when it appeared as though Kim had calmed down somewhat, I decided to take my chances with the blonde by saying, "Whoa…peeved much?"

"You got that right," Kim muttered, as she continued pacing back and forth, but at a much slower pace than before. "I am _so_ flipping _peeved_ right now, you can't even imagine!"

"Actually, I think we can," Jerry countered, earning him a dirty look from Kim.

"Don't. Even. Jerry." Kim hissed through her tightly clenched teeth. "I am _so_ not in the mood right now. One wrong move and you'll be down like a punching dummy. I'm just letting you know now before it is _way_ too late."

Jerry let out a horrified, high pitched squeal and ducked behind me as if I'd be any protection from Kim when she was this steamed. I shook him off and turned to face Kim. "Well at least you know how I felt when I left the interrogation room. I'll take it that the interrogation didn't go too well, then?"

Kim snorted. "_Please_. I actually think that _my_ interrogation went worse than _yours_, and we could practically hear you telling yourself not to snap back at Officer Riggs every time he said something that obviously upset you."

Jerry's eyebrows shot up. "It went _that_ bad?" He asked, and Eddie groaned.

"Aw _great_," Eddie said, shooting Kim and I his own version of a death glare. "Thanks for getting Officer Riggs all mad and stuff. Man, I'm supposed to go in next and thanks to you two he _definitely_ won't go easy on me."

"Whatever," Kim muttered. "Look, I don't care what Officer Riggs says. I _am_ going to get that file and I will do _anything_ it takes to get it! We _need_ to get that file!"

Milton, who'd been anxiously rocking back and forth in his seat as some sort of self-soother, suddenly stopped rocking and turned to look at Kim incredulously. "_What?_"

"I _said_ we need to get that file. Remember the file Officer Riggs was holding when he entered the waiting room and asked us if we were the ones he was going to question? Yeah, that's the file I'm talking about! We need to see what's in there!" Kim exclaimed. "I asked several times who made the arrest warrant and got nothing but a couple excuses and a warning that if I didn't shut up about it, I'd be in some serious cow paddy. Since Officer Riggs won't tell us who made the arrest warrant against us or see who was among the first people at the scene of the crime Friday morning, I think we need to get that file for ourselves."

"Whoa…whoa…whoa…" Eddie took a couple steps towards Kim, gapping at her in disbelief. "Are you suggesting that we _steal_ the file from Officer Riggs? Isn't that, like, _illegal?_"

Milton gasped loudly. "I am _not _going to participate in the stealing of the file and there is _no _way that I'm going to be witness to the crime! I also will not be known as an accessory to such a petty little crime either! Stealing is wrong and I promise you that if you guys steal that file, I will—"

"I don't think Kim meant that we were _actually_ going steal the file." I hastily cut in before Milton's rant became more of a preachy lecture on how wrong stealing was. "I think she meant that we were going to sneak a little peek at the file and just that. We weren't going to steal it or anything like that."

Kim nodded. "Right,"

"And I for one actually agree with Kim on this." I stated, earning me a surprised look from both Eddie and Milton. Clearly they hadn't been expecting me to agree with Kim's plan to sneak a peek at the file Officer Riggs held prisoner under his iron fist. I shrugged at the two of them. "What? For once, Kim Crawford is _actually_ right." Kim muttered something about always being right but I ignored her. "What choice _do_ we have? We're not _only_ trying to clear our names here. We're also trying to solve the whole 'vandals' thing, and that file might hold some important evidence. We'll never know unless we look."

"I'm with you two." Jerry announced with a grin. "Finding out who our stalkers are is _just_ as important as clearing our names. Could be even _more_ important actually..."

"But you guys, what if we get caught?" Milton stressed, his eyes clouded with worry. "Don't you guys understand how much trouble we'll be in if we are caught sifting through Officer Riggs' file?"

"Not in any more trouble than we'll be in if we don't prove our innocence to the Riggs." Kim snapped. It was pretty clear that Milton's reluctance to help was getting on Kim's nerves.

Milton rolled his eyes in exasperation. "No Kim, we'll be in _way_ more trouble than that." He whispered anxiously. "If we were caught sifting through the file, more likely than not, Officer Riggs would accuse us of trying to steal important police documents and he'd also accuse us of trying to steal police evidence. Not only would these accusations result in him charging us for theft of police documents, but it would also incriminate us in regards to the vandalism of the Black Dragons dojo. Because it would appear as though we'd been trying to steal some of the evidence, the police would automatically accuse us of being guilty. Even if we found proof in the file which proved that we didn't do it, the police wouldn't believe us anyway because they'd assume that we were lying. In short, if we were caught the penance we'd receive for our actions would be far more extreme."

We were all silent for a couple moments, considering what Milton had said. He had raised a good point. If we were to get caught, not only would we be falsely accused of stealing evidence but we'd also end up being accused of vandalising the Black Dragon's dojo because the cops would probably just jump to conclusions. Did we _really_ want to risk that?

With a sigh I shrugged. "I'm not sure about you guys, but that's a chance I'm willing to take for my own and your guys' safety."

"Really?" Eddie asked incredulously and I nodded.

Kim released a long sigh and moved next to me, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "That's a chance I'm willing to take too. I don't want anything bad to happen to you guys, and I don't want to be afraid of changing in my own bedroom anymore just because I feel like I'm being watched."

Jerry happily skipped over to the other side of me and pat me on the back. "Dude, I'll risk it too. If that means that the creepy stalker people will get off our jocks then I don't care if I might go to jail for it...but I _really_ hope that doesn't happen because I bet my sister that I wouldn't be in jail by the time I turned twenty-five and we bet big money on that."

"Good grief..." Kim muttered while I rolled my eyes at Jerry. Jerry shrugged at us, mouthing 'what?' and Kim and I exchanged a quick glance before we turned to face Eddie.

Eddie looked completely torn. He looked between four of us uncertain of whose side to choose and I felt kinda bad for putting him in an uncomfortable situation.

Luckily for him, before he could make that difficult decision, Officer Riggs materialized behind us and once again scared the freaking crap out of us.

Why the _heck_ did he keep doing that?

"Mr. Jones, I'd like to see you in the interrogation room now, please."

Eddie looked a little too excited as he stumbled over his own feet towards Officer Riggs, even gaining a raised eyebrow from him.

Officer Riggs watched Eddie as he rushed into the interrogation room before turning to us sharply. Without words we understood the implication of his glare and we hastily sat down in our seats. He shot the four of us one final glare before following Eddie into the interrogation room and quietly closing the door behind him.

"Is it just me, or did you two suck the 'friendly' out of Riggs?" Jerry asked aloud even though I was almost one hundred percent certain that it wasn't supposed to be.

"Either that or he was fronting." Kim replied distractedly. The blonde turned to face Milton, who was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Are you one hundred percent sure you don't want to help, Milton? It would be so much nicer if you were in there with us trying to find clues since you're supposed to be a super genius or something."

"But," I cut in, "We understand if you don't want to help, Milton. We know that you have all your Ivy League dreams and you want to continue your relationship with Julie in one of your dream schools. It's totally okay if you don't come in with us."

Milton looked down and sighed loudly. "Well as long as you guys are _actually_ going to go through with it, I might as well. Even if I stood out here and waited for you guys while you searched the file for clues, the police would still view me as an accessory to the crime if you got caught. They'd probably assume that I was your watchdog or something."

"But Milton, we could tell them that you had nothing to do with the plan." I tried, but Milton shook his head.

"No. Considering how awful you guys are at lying I highly doubt that the police would believe you if you said that I wasn't involved. I was present for the majority of your deliberations so the idea of me not knowing what you guys had been planning to do would be unlikely in the polices' eyes." Milton shrugged sadly. "I guess that this is the chance that I'm unwilling to take, but if it means that Julie won't get upset with me for something that I did not do when she returns from her trip, then I'm all for it."

Kim smiled and eagerly hugged Milton, who melted into her arms. "Aw, I knew you'd come around!"

Irritation flashed through me as Kim and Milton hugged, and I coughed loudly in an attempt to capture their attention, although it turned out not to be such a good idea since the dry coughs irritated my already sore throat which launched me into a full blown, hacking coughing fit which actually really hurt.

Kim and Milton separated as Jerry leaned in and pat me really hard on the back, begging for me not to die out on him or whatever, and lucky for him my coughs eventually subsided and I was able to breathe again. Albeit painfully, but hey—at least I could breathe.

"Jack," Kim said anxiously. "Are you alright?"

"My lung isn't anywhere on the floor is it? My right lung? I need that thing..." I muttered, wincing in pain.

"I don't see your lungs anywhere on the floor so I'm going to work under the assumption that you're good." Jerry announced and Kim shot him a look.

"Do you need water or something?" she asked. "If you'd like, I could go get you some. There's a water fountain not too far from here and I'm pretty sure that Officer Riggs' watchdogs wouldn't mind walking me down there."

I shook my head. "Thanks, but I'm fine. I just choked on my own spit, it's no big deal."

I could feel Milton's eyes on me, suspicion in his gaze as if he could tell that my coughs hadn't been caused by a mishap with spit, but rather an attention grabbing cough gone totally wrong—which it technically was. I wasn't completely sure if Milton knew why I'd tried to capture their attention—and had tried to get both him and Kim to stop hugging—but I _definitely_ wasn't going to ask him about it right now.

Trying to get the attention away from me I said, "We need to come up with a plan right now."

"A plan?" Jerry repeated and I nodded.

"Yeah a plan," I confirmed and lowered my voice, "We need to come up with a plan on how we're going to sneak into the interrogation room to sneak a peek at the file. We need to get those two pitbulls away from us and we need to lure Officer Riggs out of the interrogation room. We need some sort of distraction."

"Jack's right," Kim agreed. "We need a distraction, but what?"

"More like _who_..."

Milton, Kim and I turned to face Jerry, almost unsurprised to see him dish us the cocky, full-of-it smirk he usually gave when he had an idea that might actually work. "I could be the distraction. You guys could use me!"

"You...?" Milton asked sceptically and Jerry nodded eagerly.

"Yes, _me!_" he exclaimed and Kim raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not so sure, Jerry." she said slowly. "How are _you_ supposed to distract three police officers long enough for us to search through the file for any clues which may give us a lead in the 'vandals' case we're working on?"

Jerry's smirk broadened. "Ah, you see, here's the plan..."

Within a couple minutes, the four of us had formed a reasonably good and easy to carry out plan. The plan was pretty basic and straightforward with very simple steps, so it couldn't possibly go wrong unless one of us were actually stupid enough to screw it up. While it wasn't much, it definitely was enough to get Officer Riggs and his pitbulls away from us long enough to check the file, and that was all we ever asked for.

* * *

><p>The minute Eddie stumbled out of the interrogation room we bombarded him with our plan. We had no time to listen to how upset he was with how his interrogation had went down. We needed him on the exact same page as us as soon as possible since Officer Riggs would soon call Milton into the interrogation room and it was in that time gap we would act.<p>

If anything, Eddie seemed pretty sceptical of our plan. He didn't seem to believe it would work regardless of all the stuff Milton spewed about it being an infallible plan, but eventually we managed to convince him that the plan would work and wouldn't be a total failure.

And by the time Officer Riggs had reappeared to lure Milton into the interrogation room, we were all more than ready to begin phase one of our crazy awesome plan.

Stressfully running a hand through his hair, Officer Riggs stepped out into the hallway and said, "Mr. Krupnick, I'd like to see you in the interrogation room now please."

Doing just as we'd planned, Milton remained seated and shrank back into his seat.

As expected, Officer Riggs sighed and began his coaxing attempts. However, just as he'd begun his weak attempts at convincing Milton that everything would be alright, the police department's PA system went off, calling Officer Riggs to the main desk.

With another sigh Officer Riggs straightened up and ran his hand through his hair again. He gazed at us sternly as he said, "I will be back in a couple minutes, but in the meanwhile could you five please behave. If you need anything, I am certain my fellow police officers would be willing to give their assistance."

The five of us nodded obediently and Officer Riggs smiled weakly in approval. He gave us one last warning glare as he headed down the hallway, and the moment Officer Riggs turned the corner, the five of us high-fived.

Phase one of our plan had been a success. Our plan to remove Officer Riggs had been to have Kim call her parents—with the cellphone she'd skilfully hidden in her bra—and complain about how awful her interrogation had been to them, knowing that they'd get upset that their little angel was upset and would want to have a few words with the cop.

Now that phase one had been flawlessly executed, we could begin phase two of our crazy, awesome plan.

A wide grin slowly stretched across Jerry's face as he sprung up onto his feet, prepared to begin his part of phase two in our epic plan. He'd been more than willing to serve as a distraction to Officer Riggs' pitbulls and was actually pretty excited about it.

"_¡Oh, Dios!_ You guys don't know how pumped I am to do this!" Jerry squealed as he stretched and made a couple attempts to limber up and loosen his muscles.

"Oh trust me Jerry, we know." Kim said flatly. "You've made it pretty clear that you're pretty flipping excited and I kind of wish you'd stop. You've been going off about it ever since we—or _you_—came up with it in the first place and it's starting to get on my nerves. Don't make me regret not letting Eddie do this."

Sensing that Kim's final comment was a threat, Jerry raised his hands in surrender. "Whoa there, Kimmy! No need to get all hostile. I'll stop raving about how swasomely swaggy I'm feeling right now. It's cool."

"Yeah, and it's time for you to get the show on the road." I said before Kim could say something that she'd completely regret to Jerry for using her hated nickname.

"Right man," Jerry nodded in agreement. "It is time for the _Swagster Master_ to get the show on the road!"

With a loud war cry which would've made the Columbians proud, Jerry took off down the hallway at top speed, tearing off his shirt as he ran and tossing it to the side.

The two cops whom Officer Riggs had stationed on the either end of the hallway suddenly sprung to life, finally moving after standing frozen in their posts for such a long time, and began chasing after Jerry. A cool breeze passed the rest of the Warriors and I as the cop closest to us and farthest from Jerry sped by to help his friend on the other side of the hallway.

They both ran towards the Latino at top speed and moved in to stop him, but Jerry managed to dodge their grabby hands as he ducked and swiftly rolled right out the hallway with another loud cry.

The two cops followed after Jerry, completely forgetting about the remainder of us, and moment Officer Riggs' pitbulls had disappeared, the four of us sprung into action.

We barrelled into the interrogation room as Kim chanted 'go' on repeat, very well aware that we didn't have much time on our hands. This was basically the only chance we had to search the file for evidence. A couple minutes from now, Officer Riggs and his pitbulls would return with Jerry and we'd be unable to continue searching the file for clues. This was pretty much our only chance to do the search and we couldn't afford to waste it.

"Eddie, go wait by the door. If you hear Riggs and crew coming, let us know right away because we _cannot_ let them see us come out of the interrogation room, alright?" Kim said and Eddie complied.

Racing to the other side of the table, I slid the file across the metal over to Milton. "Here, start reading."

"No way! I am _not _touching the file and leaving my fingerprints all over it!" Milton exclaimed, jerking back from the file as it slid to a stop in front of him.

"Fine, I'll turn the pages." Kim said, irritation edging her words. She flipped the file open with ease. "Just tell me when you need me to turn the page, 'kay? Time is money, guys, and we don't have enough money to bail ourselves out of jail!"

"Skip the first, like, two pages." I said, "It says nothing about the case. It just talks about us, the suspects. Look for the page that says 'evidence' about halfway down. That's what we're looking for."

"Thank you, Jack." Kim said appreciatively as she quickly flipped through the file until she found just what she'd been looking for. "Okay, here it is. Just start reading from the top, Milton, and keep going from there."

Milton briefly nodded in agreement as he began quickly to read, mouthing the words as he read along to ensure that he didn't skip words or lines. Every single word in the file was pretty important at this point.

I could feel my stress and tension ripping through me as I jiggled my foot incessantly, impatiently waiting for Milton to reveal that he had figure something out and this whole thing wasn't a complete waste of time and an unnecessary risk we'd taken. I was starting to feel a bit paranoid as my adrenaline rush finally wore off.

And judging by Kim and Eddie's facial expressions, they were also starting to feel the same way that I did. Kim, being the open book that she was, made it pretty clear that her patience was running out and while Eddie tried his best to pay attention to all the noises out the room, it was pretty clear that he was starting to get distracted.

I would be lying if I said there wasn't a collective sigh of relief when Milton finally decided to speak.

"Well that's interesting," he said, and Kim and I immediately leaned in to see what the heck Milton was talking about.

"What's interesting?" Eddie called from the door, turning around to face us.

Milton shifted in his seat. "It says here in the fourth or fifth paragraph, depending on how you look at this, that among the first group of people who'd shown up at the Black Dragon's dojo soon after the discovery of the vandalism was none other than Arthur Turner himself..."

Kim and I rocked back on our heels in shock.

_Arthur_ was involved with the Black Dragons? Since when had _he_ been a part of their crew?

"Quite suspicious if you ask me," Milton added grimly, "Especially considering the fact that the vid-cam's images were being wirelessly transmitted to the mall cops' security computers."

"Wait...wait...wait...say _what_ now? I said, shaking my head. This was information overload at its best. "The vid-cam's images were being transmitted to the security computers at the mall? When did we find _this _out?"

"Last night..." Milton frowned and shot Kim a look. "Kim, didn't you tell him?"

Kim subconsciously reached up towards her bruised eye. "Something came up..."

Milton shot both Kim and I another suspicious gaze, understanding that whatever had came up was related to the bruise which was still trying to eat Kim's face from the left side across. He'd been about to say something about it, but I swiftly dove in before he could question us about the bruise again. "So the vid-cam images were—or _are_—being transmitted to the mall security's hard drives, _and _Arthur was seen with the Black Dragons the morning after their dojo had been trashed? Something says _suspicious_..."

Kim snorted. "_Says _it? More like _screams_ it."

"Right," Milton agreed. "I am highly suspicious of Arthur at this moment due to all the incriminating evidence we have against him. His had the motive and the means to carry out his revenge. Everything currently points at him."

I nod. "Yeah, as of right now, everything _does_ point to him. But we need more proof..."

"And what's a better way to get more proof than during Arthur's second apology visit tomorrow?" Kim asked slyly.

I smirked. "I _love _the way you think."

"I love the way I think too," Kim said with a coy wink.

"So tomorrow we're going to question Arthur about his little fling with the Black Dragons?" Eddie asked and I nodded.

"Yup, that seems to be the plan."

Eddie smirked. "Well, you know Jack, if it _does_ turn out that Arthur is behind all the vandals stuff, that would technically mean that on Monday, I was right about my guess that Arthur had been the one who'd trashed our dojo—with a little help—and you were wrong."

With a smile, I rolled my eyes, and was about to say something but I froze.

I wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light or if my fever was finally getting to me, but I swore saw someone. A shadow or something lurking behind Eddie, watching us from just outside the interrogation room, listening to every word we said.

* * *

><p><strong>* AN ***

**With that, this chapter draws to a close...**

**I'd just like to thank you all for being here on this very special day. Today is the one year anniversary of my beloved FanFic, _Vandals Anonymous_, and honestly I am just so grateful for all the support you guys have given me. When I first posted this story, I was absolutely terrified. I thought no one would like it, but then I got my first review and that review came from _StormingTheCastle_. I'd just like to thank you for leaving me that review. It probably didn't seem like much, but it really gave me confidence a boost. **

**Holy cheese...so much has happened since I first posted this story, so much has happened...**

**Within these last two chapters you guys have uncovered quite a few things. Last chapter you may have figured out who had attacked Kim due to the lovely hint I'd left behind and this chapter you discovered two very crucial details—that the vid-cam images were being transferred to the mall's security computers and that Arthur is now involved with the Black Dragons. What does this mean for all the other high profile suspects? You'll soon see...**

**Truman's involvement with the case will soon be revisited, as will the issue with the phones numbers. A cellphone stealing may take place...**

**But until then, you'll have to deal with the next chapter which features Arthur's imminent return. It _will_ be rather cracky and filled with surprise guests, laxative-filled-brownie mentions and potentially-poisoned-cookies...YAY!**

**I sincerely hope that you all enjoyed the chapter. I personally didn't like this one, but to each their own.**

**Lots of love, ALPHA**

**PS: To those who guessed "Wizards of Waverly Place" as the show in which the band _UGHHH _is found, you are correct! Although, according to BETA, there may have been a poster of them in "ANT Farm". Either them or _Tears of Blood._ **

**PPS: Jack wanting to be a _princess _when he was younger? I _definitely _need someone to write me a one-shot about Kim discovering this little tidbit about Jack XD**

**PPPS: Ms. Brewer is apparently a _classic_ Disney Channel mom. She has _zero_ cooking ability and can only microwave food lol. I am only a _little_ better off than she is.**

**PPPPS: If you haven't already, check out _uniquemusician_'s "Kickin' It" forum! A place where everyone can discuss FanFiction :)**

**PPPPPS: Check out me and Beta's _OFFICIAL_ blog! Go to _alpha-and-beta-soup_ . _tumblr_ . _com_ to get the deets on us!**


	14. Chapter 13

*** A/N ***

**_Happy Holiday!_**

**Hey there, it's ALPHA with the thirteenth chapter of my "Kickin' It" mystery FanFic, _Vandals Anonymous! _I know it has been quite some time since I last updated, but I have returned to FanFiction! To get info on my next updates check out the _AlphaBetaSoup _official blog! Hit up _alpha-and-beta-soup_. _tumblr_. _com_ to get the deets!**

**As usual, there is a longer A/N at the bottom of this chapter and I'd prefer it if people reviewed alongside favouriting and alerting. I am interested in how quickly we can make it to 250 reviews. So please review, if not for me, then in the name of Christmas, Hanukkah or any other holiday you and your family celebrate!**

**_DISCLAIMER_****: I do not, under _any _circumstances, own the characters or places mentioned in _Disney XD_'s "Kickin' It". **

* * *

><p><strong>* <span>KIMBERLY CRAWFORD<span> ***

With a frown I peered at my reflection.

The hugantic bruise on my left cheek was just as prominent as ever. Although I'd spent the past two nights icing it, the swelling still hadn't gone down at, like, all. The swollen skin stayed a dark, purplish colour and the skin around it stayed a totally nauseating shade of greenish blue before turning all yellowy. My left eye was also all puffy and blue, and as a result of my injury, I had a serious migraine that Advil just couldn't fix.

Regardless, I popped two pills in my mouth and took a giant swig of water. In the past two days I was pretty sure that I'd taken enough painkillers to end up in an emergency room. It was a miracle I wasn't even high despite all the drugs in my system. I usually got all loopy after smelling nail polish remover.

I shoved the two bottles back into my duffle bag and slung it over my shoulder. Giving my sorry excuse of a reflection one last look, I exited the bathroom and entered the main part of the dojo.

Spinning the dial on my shiny, new lock (Thank you once again, Bobby Wasabi, for buying us brand new lockers with working locks! I was getting tired of the boys shoving random things into my sports bras!), I asked, "Are they here yet?"

Milton turned away from his own locker and shook his head. "No, not yet."

For the past thirty to forty minutes, we'd been waiting for Mr. Turner and his brat of a son, Arthur, to arrive. They were taking _forever_ and I really wanted them to show up since the sooner they showed up the sooner we could get the whole ex-lax-in-brownies apology thing over with, and the sooner we got the apology over with the sooner I could get to the hospital so I could finish reading Sophie her favourite story, one of the books in that _Fancy Nancy_ series.

I was determined to make it to the hospital on time for my session with the little girl I read to in the paediatric ward, Sophie, and (as psychotic as this sounded) _nothing_ was going to stand in my way.

If the Turners didn't show up within the next five minutes, I was leaving. I was _not_ going to put my life on hold for them just because they were rich (and Mr. Turner owned the mall, and Rudy was threatening to tell my parents if I left...).

Screw that.

"God, what's taking them so long?" I whined as I swung my locker open and shoved my duffle bag inside. "I really need to go see Sophie. I promised her that I'd visit her today, and I don't intend on breaking that promise."

Milton shrugged. "Not sure, but in all honesty I think it's for the best. I mean, Jack and Jerry aren't even _here_ yet, and Eddie is still in line at _Falafel Phil's_ according to the text he just sent me."

"Jack said he's on his way in his last text. He's just running a little late. His mom wanted to pick up some meds for him or something." I said, pulling my phone out of my back pocket. "But I have no clue what Jerry's deal is. He hasn't been answering any of my text messages."

"Or mine," Milton said, looking down at his own phone's blank screen.

It was s_o _unlike Jerry not to answer texts. No matter what he was doing, no matter what mood he was in, Jerry _always _answered text messages. It didn't even matter if his phone died right before he could reply, he'd just steal—I mean, _borrow_—someone else's phone to text you back.

I mean, _I_ of all people should know since he'd once taken my phone while I was texting Grace to shoot off a text to his mom about some _rash_ he'd discovered in a place I refuse to say out loud (I mean, _ew! _I was _still_ apologizing to Grace about the picture of the rash she received. I guess Jerry messed up and sent it to her instead of his mom or something).

"You think he's alright?" I asked, starting to get a little worried about the jarring lack of any new text messages from Jerry. I quickly thumbed off another text and anxiously waited for a reply. "Jerry a_lways_ replies."

Milton shrugged as he slid his phone into his pocket, "Probably. Ms. Martinez seemed pretty upset about the arrest so there's no doubt in my mind that she grounded Jerry and took away his phone and other privileges—_especially_ keeping yesterday's theatrics in mind."

Oh..._right_...I'd almost forgotten about the whole "See Cops Run" stunt Jerry had pulled yesterday as a part of our plan to enter the interrogation room without the Riggs' supervision in order to get some additional info on our arrests. He'd run around the police department—for who knew how long—screaming and yelling and stuff.

Yeah, that stunt probably got Jerry in a whole ton of crud with his mom.

"You're probably right, Milton." I said, giving my phone one last look before I slid it back into my back pocket. "Ms. Martinez probably just took Jerry's phone away. That's all."

Despite this probably being the most logical explanation to Jerry's lack of texts, I couldn't help but to feel as though it wasn't the _right_ reason. I had this weird feeling in my gut that something else entirely was going on, but I couldn't figure out the "what" part.

Milton saw the apprehension on my face and was about to say something about it when the dojo doors suddenly swung open.

Seemed like Jack and Eddie had _finally_ arrived.

"Hey guys," I said, kind of relieved I didn't have to sit through yet another session of _Tea Time with Dr. Krupnick_. _Why_ you may ask? Let's just say that when Milton gets his "inner-therapist" on, he _really_ gets his "inner-therapist" _on_.

"Hey," Eddie said with a disgustingly greasy looking grin. The boy was all smiles as he crammed yet another one of Phil's greasy creations into his mouth, totally unaware of how nauseated Jack looked at the smell of his overly greasy food.

Actually, Jack just looked sick. _Period_.

Seemed like the flu had taken over poor Mr. Brewer "_Invasion of the Body Snatchers_" style.

That fever he'd been nursing for the past two days had spiked, leaving him all rosy and pink like my sweatshirt. His nose was a little red from the constant blowing and there were dark bags under his eyes as if he hadn't slept all week (which was only partially true).

In general, Jack looked totally out of it and to be quite honest I actually felt kind of bad for him. I mean, he didn't look all that great yesterday, but today he looked absolutely miserable. It was like someone had told him they'd killed his turtle and then ate it...or something a _lot_ less gross sounding.

I totally would've given him a hug if, you know, he _wasn't_ sick. Okay, so I knew that sounded totally vain but I couldn't afford to get sick since my Pep Squad was performing for the Senior Pep Squad this upcoming Wednesday and I needed to lead the routine. Getting sick was an _ultra_ big no-no for me.

While Coach and Donna would be a bit understanding if I caught the flu, Alyssa would kill me and leave my body out for the vultures—_no questions asked_—so I kept my distance.

Besides, this morning I woke up with a slightly irritated throat (a _sure_ sign that I was coming down with something—thanks a _lot,_ Jack!) and wanted to put off the onset of whatever I was coming down with as long as possible (...or at least until Thursday) and getting too close to Sickie Boy definitely would _not_ help.

I took a couple steps back from my locker as Jack approached his, nearly bumping into Milton who had also decided to put some distance between himself and Sickie Boy since he was a _major_ mysophobe (on a scale of one to ten, Milton's fear of germs was, like, _hazmat_ levels).

I watched Jack as he spun in his locker combo, rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath when he got it wrong the first, second _and_ third time. The fourth time I shoved Jack aside and opened his locker for him, deciding that the sight of him trying and totally failing at opening his locker was too pathetic for me to watch any further.

Being sick really disoriented _Mr_. _Perfect_.

"Thanks," Jack said, sounding seriously stuffed up and hoarse as he reached into his locker and pulled out an orange, pullover hoodie. He slipped it on over his black, _totally_ formfitting v-neck. _Dang..._ "How do you know my combo?"

I waved him off. Like I was going to admit that I'd watched him spin it in every time he'd opened his locker in the past three or four days like a total creeper just so that I could snoop in his locker later on. _Psh_...Yeah right!

"Doesn't matter," I said, my voice shifting into a more sympathetic tone. "What's more important is you—don't give me that look, Brewer—what I meant was how are you feeling?"

Jack leaned against the row of lockers next to his and shot me an amused look. "Sick...like _really_ sick. I'm trying _so_ hard not to throw up all over you right now."

I smiled, folding my arms across my chest. "Well, so far you're doing a pretty good job."

"Thanks," Jack sighed as he pushed up the sleeves of his pullover. "I'm just trying to get through this whole "apology" thing without puking on anyone. I mean, according to Milton's "enemy" list thing, Heather Clark _still_ hates me."

I smirked (for undisclosed reasons regarding Heather's dislike of Jack).

"Honestly, I really just want to go home, sleep and _maybe_ get pampered by my mom. She loves doing that." Jack continued. He turned to Milton. "Are Mr. Turner and Arthur with Rudy?"

"Nope, they're not here yet." Milton said as he plopped down on the bench next to Eddie.

"_What?_ They're _still _not here yet?"

The guys and I turned around to face Rudy, who'd _finally_ come out of his office after being holed up in there for who knew how long.

Like the guys and I, Rudy was anxiously anticipating the arrival of the Turner Family. According to Rudy, Mr. Turner had swung by the dojo while we'd been at school last Monday to assess some of the damage the stupid vandals had done.

Apparently Mr. Turner had said that shutting down the dojo was almost inevitable considering all the wreckage. It would take a lot of time and money to fix the place up, money Mr. Turner apparently wasn't quite sure was in the mall's budget.

Lucky for us, Bobby Wasabi saved the day with his mega donation. Once all the required paperwork was signed, Mr. Turner allowed Bobby Wasabi's renovators to do their thing, saying that he couldn't wait to see the dojo once it'd been fixed up.

Unfortunately for us though, these words were the ones which had thrown Rudy into an OCD-like cleaning frenzy.

Rudy had been cleaning this place since yesterday afternoon despite the fact that it wasn't even dirty yet. The dojo still looked like it belonged in some sort of interior decorator mag. He'd already tidied up the main room, shining his cheap trophies to perfection, and had been reorganizing his office for the last hour or something (if you asked me, he was _crazy_).

"Mr. Turner and Arthur _still_ aren't here?" Rudy asked again, frantically looking around as if he were expecting the Turners to pop up behind the guys and I like it was some five-year-old's surprise party or something.

"Nope, not yet." Milton affirmed. "Although I don't think that this is an issue. Had they come any earlier, Jack and Eddie would've missed them, and Jerry still hasn't even arrived yet."

"Jerry's not here yet either?" Rudy groaned. "Why is he running late..._this_ time?"

"That has yet to be determined." I said, "He hasn't answered any of my texts."

"Or mine!" Eddie and Milton chimed in.

"Well he answered one of mine," Jack said, pulling out that awkward flip phone his mom had given him for the duration of his grounding (Still sorry about that, Jack!). "He said something came up, but he'll be here as soon as he can."

"Something...came..._up?_" I asked. The weird feeling I had that something just wasn't quite right with Jerry intensified and my stomach flipped. "Did he say what?"

Coughing like he had TB, Jack shook his head. "No, he didn't." He wheezed.

Rudy rolled his eyes and groaned again, either completely oblivious to or ignoring the fact that one of his students was literally dying right before his very eyes. "Well, he better be here soon. Mr. Turner made it _very_ clear that he wanted _all_ of you here for the second apology. Not _half_ of you!"

"_Actually _Rudy..." Milton began, but we all shot him a look (with varying degrees of dirtiness) and he immediately shut up.

Rudy sighed and rolled his eyes. "_Whatever_. Look, I'm going to go give Mr. Turner a call just to make sure he's on his way and our plans haven't changed. Give me a call if they get here before I find Mr. Turner's private number."

"Sure thing, Rudy." Eddie said and the rest of us nodded in agreement as Rudy disappeared into his office.

Ironically enough, less than millisecond after the office door had clicked shut, did Jerry burst into the dojo (nearly scaring the crud out of us, but that's a _whole_ other thing).

"Am I too late?" He panted, "Did Arthur and Mr. Turner leave?"

I felt a weird twinge in my stomach.

Jerry was panting and wheezing as if he'd just done the _Tour de France_ route on foot or something. A thin layer of sweat glistened on his forehead and stained his shirt.

Where the _heck_ had he been? Of all of us, Jerry probably lived the closest to the mall, regardless of whether he was at his mom's or his dad's. Even if he _had_ sprinted all the way here from one of his homes, there was no way he'd be _this_ exhausted. Clearly Jerry hadn't been at either home. He'd been elsewhere.

My eyes narrowed. _What_ exactly had "come up" and _where_ exactly did it "come up"?

I eyed the boy suspiciously as he continued to pant like a St. Bernard in the Sahara. "Don't worry, Jerry. You didn't miss them. The Turners _still_ haven't arrived yet."

"Oh good," Jerry breathed, fanning himself with his shirt.

"But," I paused, raising an eyebrow. "Where have _you_ been?"

Jerry didn't respond. A flurry of emotions danced across his face, each one a little more troubling than the last, before he finally settled on _guilt_. Guilt clouded Jerry's dark eyes, marking his facial features. He looked extremely upset for whatever the reason.

"_Around_..." He finally muttered, looking down.

My stomach turned nauseatingly. I began to feel about as queasy as Jack currently did.

Was I honestly the _only _one here who noticed something was _seriously_ wrong with Jerry?

"Around?" Eddie repeated dubiously. "Dude, where the heck have you been? You ignored all our texts and came in like you just ran a marathon or something."

"Yeah seriously," Jack joined in. "Where were you?"

"Something came up, okay?" Jerry snapped, sounding awfully frustrated even though we hadn't really been pressing. "Something came up so I came in kinda late. The only reason I didn't answer any of your texts—except, I think, Jack's—was because I was in a dead zone. No bars. _Dios_, _calma_. _No_ es _el fin del mundo_."

"Okay, _okay!_" Eddie raised his hands in truce. "Whoa dude. Sorry for even asking."

Jerry mumbled something under his breath as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

I could feel Milton eying me. He knew that I had purposely spurned this whole thing on because I'd been feeling kind of worried about Jerry's whereabouts earlier on. But now my worries had some justification, right?

There was no way Jerry would've freaked like he did if something hadn't been going on behind the scenes.

I was about to try my hand at getting Jerry to spill his deal when Milton cut in. Sensing the discomfort (mainly on Jerry's part), he changed the topic, shooting me a pointed and most definitely accusing look.

"Since Arthur and Mr. Turner still have yet to arrive and all of us are now here, I think this is a good time to bring up _our_ main purpose during this second apology visit." Milton began, "Our main purpose here is to get some answers to a couple questions from Arthur. In order to do so, I think we need to discuss how we're going to approach him. Set some ground rules."

"_Ground rules?_" Eddie repeated, biting into another falafel ball.

"Yes, ground rules." Milton affirmed. "I personally believe that we need to set some ground rules since we _all_ know for a fact that tempers _will_ rise when we're interrogating Arthur."

Jack and I exchanged a glance.

Why did I get the feeling that Milton was talking about _us_ specifically?

"Well, that _does_ make sense." Jack finally admitted. "I guess we do need to watch how we act when we question Arthur. If we upset him, he might shut down and refuse to answer any of our questions. Or even worse, he'll tell his daddy on us. We have to play it safe."

"Yeah, because confronting him about his association with the Black Dragons is _such _a brat move." I muttered sarcastically.

Our visit to the San Jose Police Department yesterday had brought up many more questions than answers.

In an effort to uncover some info on the people who'd been tormenting us for the past week, we'd discovered that Arthur Turner had been with the Black Dragons the morning the Black Dragons discovered that their dojo had been vandalised (just like ours had been a couple days earlier). This discovery put a whole new, dizzying twist on the "vandals" case.

What the _heck_ was Arthur doing with the Black Dragons?

The thought of Arthur working with the Black Dragons was completely unnerving, to say the least. Arthur had nearly killed us the last two times he'd been here and the Black Dragons had caused us some serious harm in the past (seriously, how weren't these people in juvy yet?). So there was no telling what the Arthur and the Black Dragons would do once they were _together_.

"It's not exactly a brat move," Jack said with a shrug. "But Arthur might take it that way."

"_Exactly_," Milton said. "There's no doubt in my mind that Arthur heard about the vandalism. The second we start questioning him, he'll assume that we're accusing him of something and he'll lash out at us. And it'll only make things worse if we start screaming back. This is _exactly_ why we need to watch ourselves."

"Okay...so we need to talk about how we're going to grill Arthur so he doesn't get suspicious right away...and how Jack and Kim are going to manage themselves so they don't tear him to pieces?" Jerry finally spoke after being silent for so long.

Jack and I both shot him a look and Milton raised an eyebrow.

"Well, can whatever we're about to discuss wait?" Jack asked as he slammed his locker shut. "I really need to blow my nose right now and I'm all out of tissues. Anyone have a packet of Kleenex on them or something?"

"Try Rudy's office." Eddie suggested. "He's been stock piling them. Don't ask why."

"But you might want to take a raincheck on that and on our current conversation too." I said, pointing at the glass doors. "Look what the cat dragged in—a rat look-a-like."

Through the glass we could see the Turners approaching—and it was about _flipping_ time!

Arthur and his dad walked side by side into the dojo, the former carrying what appeared to be a saran-wrapped plate. I hoped that whatever was under the saran-wrap wasn't for us because my stomach could _not _handle another batch of botched brownies.

The Turners looked around the dojo, silently checking out the improvements which had been made as a result of the renovation. The guys and I stood proudly as we looked on. Our dojo looked _flipping_ fantastic! _Nobody_ could deny it!

"Well, I am certainly impressed with how this place turned out." Mr. Turner admitted, looking a little awestruck, unlike Arthur who looked less than impressed. "The dojo looks far better than it did even before the vandalism. Bobby Wasabi did well with the renovation. Where is Rudy? I want him to give me Bobby Wasabi's phone number so I can personally thank Mr. Wasabi for what he did. Is he in his office?"

"Yeah, I'll go get him," Jack offered. "I was already on my way in there anyway."

Mr. Turner smiled. "That would be great, Jack. Thank you."

A couple seconds later, Jack reappeared with a gazillion tissues in hand. He shoved them into his pocket, saving one for his runny nose. "Rudy's—"

Before Jack could even finish his sentence, Rudy bounded out of his office about as hyperactively as Henry was after downing twelve _Smile Dip _packets (hopefully he wasn't about to throw up pink foam like Henry did a couple minutes after).

"Mr. Turner!" He exclaimed. "What a lovely surprise! I'm glad that you and Arthur were finally able to make it! I thought we'd have to reschedule again since you were supposed to take your step-daughter up to her father's place this morning."

Mr. Turner laughed. "Oh no. I promised my _Little_ _Princess_ that this wouldn't take too long so she complied. She's wandering around the mall as we speak with her favoured platinum membership so we'll have some time to talk before she returns."

I raised an eyebrow. _Buying someone's patience?_ Sure sounded like a Turner thing to do.

"That's great!" Rudy exclaimed, sounding _way _too overenthusiastic about what he was reacting to. It was pretty clear that someone (not going to name names because you'd actually have to pretty dumb not to get it since the said person was making it _so_ obvious) was trying _way_ too hard to suck up to Head-Honcho Turner. "Why don't we leave the kids and go talk in my office? I'm sure they'd like a little privacy."

The guys and I exchanged glances. We _definitely_ needed privacy if we were going to ask Arthur about his involvement with the Black Dragons.

Mr. Turner agreed and followed Rudy into his office, waving at us as he walked off.

The moment the office door clicked shut, the six of us turned on each other. The guys and I stood in a cluster on one end of the mats while Arthur stood alone on the other. The stare down only lasted seconds before Arthur flashed us a creepy, nightmarish smile and took a step towards us. Instinctively, we took a collective step back.

"So we meet again," Arthur said.

"You don't say," I said sarcastically and the rest of the guys shot me a warning look.

Oh right. I almost forgot I was supposed to pretend I _didn't_ hate Arthur with every single inch of my body for attempting to knock down the dojo with people inside and giving us tainted brownies which made us sick for several days. Oops, my bad. Well, I've got it now.

Arthur chose to ignore my snark and continued on with his "so-called" apology. "Well, I'm back to say I'm sorry for the laxative tainted brownies I fed you the last time I was here to apologize for trying to bulldoze the dojo. I don't know what I was thinking."Arthur gazed at us as sincerely as he possibly could, eyes wide in faux-innocence. "What I did was wrong. I understand that now after spending countless hours with my therapist while I was grounded—a second time—for what I'd done."

I raised an eyebrow. I probably shouldn't have been surprised Mr. Turner had sent his son to a therapist, but come on. Who wouldn't have been able to tell at first glance that Arthur was a narcissistic, sociopathic jerk?

"That is why I came back to apologize again." Arthur held his saran-wrapped plate out to us as he stepped forwards, another pseudo-grin lighting up his face. "Here, these are some cookies I had the Kitchen Aid bake to make up for those awful brownies. You guys can take some. They all say _I'm Sorry _because I am."

The guys and I were completely and utterly dumbfounded. Stupidly, we stared down at the cookies, unsure of how to react. After what happened the last time we accepted free food from Arthur, we were kind of nervous—and _rightfully_ so!

The whole "ex-lax-in-brownies" fiasco was a _total_ nightmare for me and the guys. I mean, the incident was number three on my "Top Ten List of Worst Experiences _Ever_" and number two on my "Top Ten List of Worst Experiences experienced _with_ the Guys". On both lists, the memory which came before the "ex-lax" one was "The Trip to Remember" (note the sarcasm).

Sweet _cheese_, that trip was traumatic.

But the "ex-lax-in-brownies" fiasco was only slightly less horrifying.

I'd been over at the Milligan home when the effects of the brownies finally hit me, helping Grace out with our Cheer Camp scrapbook. We'd taken a crud load of pictures over the summer, but had been too lazy to organize them until that day.

Donna Tobin was actually supposed to join us (I mean, that was back when Grace _didn't_ hate Donna with every inch of her being), but she'd been asked to baby-sit while her mom took on an extra shift at work and couldn't come over.

So it was just Grace and I—old besties.

I guess I should've been more thankful that Donna wasn't there since it made the whole "incident" less humiliating, but that wasn't saying much since the person who had witnessed everything was _Grace Milligan_.

Never in a _million_ years would that girl let me live it down.

As our scrapbooking and story-retelling session went on, I became more and more symptomatic. Halfway through, I developed these _awful_ cramps and soon after I became _really_ gassy. Like, "Jerry-Literally-Just-Ate-Three-Cans-of-Beans-So-Run-for-Your-Flipping-Life" gassy. It was _really_ embarrassing.

Of course, the gas attack wasn't nearly as embarrassing as what ended up happening about twenty minutes later when the ex-lax _finally_ kicked in and sent my intestines into a frenzy.

Let's just say I picked a _terrible_ day to wear white short-shorts.

Arthur waved his pink plate around as if he were trying to recapture our attention. "_Hello_._..?_ I said you guys could take some. There are some snickerdoodles in here—everyone _loves_ snickerdoodles—and there are some sugar cookies with frosting—everyone _loves_ frosting."

"Wow Arthur, thanks so much." Jack finally said, giving Arthur a half-hearted smile. "But I can't. I _really_ don't feel well right now, so I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep these cookies down."

"I can't take any either." Eddie squeaked, "Big brunch at _Falafel Phil's_. I'm stuffed."

"My girlfriend is coming back from Europe today and I have a huge "Welcome Home" lunch date planned before the jetlag really hits her, so I can't spoil my appetite! Sorry!" Milton said nervously.

"I don't trust you, so no." I said bluntly, joining in on the excuses session.

Arthur's left eye twitched as he forced a smile. "That's okay. I'll just leave them here for you guys so you can eat them later. No big deal. But Jerry, what about you? Do you want a cookie or do you have an excuse just like your friends?"

"Uh..." Jerry's eyes grew wide in alarm. He looked from the guys and me to Arthur (who was really starting to look kind of predatory) and back again, unsure of what to do.

"Have a cookie, Jerry." Arthur pressed, his eyes flashing. "Have. A. Cookie."

Jerry normally buckled under the slightest hint of peer pressure so really wasn't all that surprising that he caved in to Arthur's demands, but the rest of the guys and I groaned and rolled our eyes anyway.

"What the heck?" Jerry asked with a nervous laugh.

Arthur went from "creepy" to "_creepy_" with his predacious as fudge grin. He shoved the plate forward and Jerry nervously took a cookie. He stared at it for the longest of time before finally raising it to his lips—where it stayed hovering. His hand shook as beads of sweat began to pearl on his forehead. It was pretty obvious he was having flashbacks to the ex-lax-brownies.

I'd never seen Jerry so nervous about anything in my life. He literally ate just about _anything_, so seeing him so anxious was weird and actually kind of worried me. Jerry wasn't acting like himself today—and it wasn't just because he was eating a potentially poisoned cookie.

Finally unable to watch him quiver and shake anymore, I smacked the cookie right out of Jerry's hand. We watched as it bounced across the mat, trailing crumbs as it went, before settling on the ground with a soft—but audible—thud. The guys turned to look at me, their jaws slack in surprise.

"_Kim!_" Jerry exclaimed, eyes wide.

"Do not tell me that you were _honestly_ going to eat that!" I trilled, "Please do _not_ tell me that you were _honestly_ going to eat that cookie! We have _no_ idea what is in it! For all we know, Arthur laced it with more laxatives or _Hashimoto Soda_ or something!"

"_WHAT!?_" Jerry shrieked.

Arthur rolled his eyes incredulously. "Oh my _God_. Calm down. These cookies are perfectly fine to eat. I swear on my life that I didn't add _anything_ to them. Jeez, why don't you guys trust me?"

"Oh...I don't know...maybe because you tried to _poison _us the last time we accepted free food from you?" I snapped.

Arthur gazed at us in (what I assumed was phony) disbelief. "You guys, come on. I wasn't trying to poison you. All I wanted was a little revenge for getting me grounded. That's all. I didn't mean any serious harm."

"Tell that to my underwear," Jerry hissed.

"Or my bathroom," Eddie chimed in.

"Your brownies made us sick for, like, three days." Jack pointed out, an eyebrow raised. "Don't tell me you _weren't _trying to cause some serious harm."

Arthur's left eye twitched again. It was pretty obvious that his patience was wearing thin and he was struggling to contain himself. If Arthur flipped out, he knew that he'd have to abandon the whole "innocent boy" act which he'd been trying so hard to maintain.

Honestly, I had no idea why he was trying so hard since his dad was nowhere to be seen. That didn't stop him from being a total jerk to us before so why was he "playing" nice now? What was his purpose? What was the creep trying to achieve?

"I _wasn't_ trying to poison you," Arthur hissed through clenched teeth. Reciting what were _obviously_ rehearsed words, Arthur said, "I wasn't thinking straight when I laced the brownies with laxatives. I wasn't thinking about the consequences, I was thinking about getting revenge. The therapist sessions really helped me see what I did was wrong."

I heard Jack snort, but he blew his nose to cover the noise.

Milton shot us warning looks, subtly telling us to take it easy since things had derailed. Arthur was close to snapping and we hadn't even had the chance to ask him about his involvement with the Black Dragons yet. Playing pacifist, he said, "Guys, maybe really _does_ mean what he says. Maybe he really wasn't thinking when he spiked the brownies and his therapist really did help him see the error of his ways."

I let out a short, dry laugh. "Because for some _strange_ reason he didn't think that putting ex-lax into a batch of brownies was a bad idea. Come on, you don't need a therapist to figure that out. All you need is a properly functioning brain."

The plate clattered onto the bench.

The guys and I turned to face Arthur, our eyes wide. Judging by the looks on the guys' faces, it was safe to assume that they were all thinking _exactly_ what I was thinking. We were all thinking about Arthur Turner. He had _finally_ snapped.

Arthur threw a fist, which I deftly ducked under, not wanting another ginormous bruise on the _other_ side of my face since one bruise was painful enough (seriously, I should've been high off all those painkillers). With a loud cry of frustration or disappointment or whatever, Arthur threw another fist, but Jack caught his hand before it could connect with his cheek bone.

Jack gazed at the other boy stoically, fist in hand. Despite how hoarse and barely there his voice was, his words didn't lack any conviction. "You probably shouldn't have done that."

"You know what!? Maybe the Black Dragons were right about you guys!" Arthur snarled, practically foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog or squirrel or Eddie when he caught sight of food after not eating for an hour.

We all froze.

For the first time in history, I witnessed something I never thought I'd ever see Jack do as long as I lived. The rest of the guys and I watched in shock as Jack slowly lowered Arthur's hand and (even more slowly) let go, one finger at a time. Even Arthur seemed a little surprised. He continually looked from his fist to Jack's face as if waiting for something magical to happen (I would be lying if I said I wasn't doing the same).

"What," Jack paused, closing the gap between him and Arthur before continuing, "did the Black Dragons say about us?"

Arthur gulped frantically like a fish out of the water, blinking rapidly. Eventually he recovered and gave Jack a cocky, sleazeball grin. He clenched and unclenched his fist a couple times before looking up to meet Jack's gaze. "Why?" he asked, a smirk quickly taking over his face. "Why did you let go, Jack? Scared that this wasn't a battle you could win while so sick and so _weak?_"

"I'm not afraid to smash you into that wall again. I did it once so doing it again will be a piece of cake. This time it'll even be a fair fight since we're the same height _and_ I'm sick." Jack hissed.

Arthur arched an eyebrow. "You wouldn't dare with my dad in the next room over."

"Wanna bet?"

"Arthur, just answer the flipping question." I cut in, stepping forwards. I folded my arms across my chest. "Man up and answer the flipping question. You wouldn't be stalling if you weren't totally scared right now."

Arthur shrugged as if he didn't have a care in the world. "Trust me. I'm not afraid of this scrawny little skate rat anymore than I'm afraid of the rest of you. Why would I be afraid of a nerd, a poser, a chub or a _girl?_"

It took all my restraint not to lunge at the sociopathic jerk and scratch that cocky, little smirk off his face.

"But," He sighed melodramatically. "I'll answer the question. The Black Dragons had _plenty_ to say about you guys. I was recently asked to join them in because of my martial arts skill, and when I told them thanks since I'd been rejected from this dojo, they told me that it was actually a good thing I didn't join your shoddy little dojo. When I asked why, they told me things about the five of you that I never even would've _believed_ if it weren't for the fact that it _was_ true."

"Like _what?_" Milton asked, clearly starting to get a bit exasperated.

Arthur casually strolled away from us. "Things...a lot of little things at first. But as the stories went on, those little things got bigger...and bigger...and bigger."

"You're not answering the question." Jack said impatiently.

"Calm down, I'm getting there!" Arthur said, sounding whinier than Henry when mom told him that he couldn't buy another game for his _Nintendo 3DS_ since he already had almost fifty and lost at least half of them. "The Black Dragons, mainly Frank Bickle, told me all these things about you guys, and said you guys deserved what was coming to you on—"

"_I thought you said this wouldn't take long, Arthur!_"

Oh God...not _her_ again. _She_ was Arthur's step-sister?

Beneath the arch at the front of the dojo stood my archrival during the Seaford Pearl Pageant, Claire Whatever-The-Heck-her-Last-Name-Was.

Hands on her narrow hips, Claire strode forward, eventually slowing to a stop right in front of her step-brother. Her seriously over-glossed lips curled into a sneer as her thin eyebrows lowered over her dark eyes. She tucked a loose strand of red-gold hair back into the bun at the top of her head as she angrily hissed something nasty at her brother.

If Arthur wasn't scared of Jack, he definitely _was _scared of Claire. He cowered and even _whimpered_ as she angrily hissed into his face, standing on the tip of her (admittedly adorable) boots to equal out their height difference. Whatever Claire had said sucked the cockiness right out of Arthur since he looked pretty weak and pathetic after Claire pulled away.

When she was finished verbally beating Arthur down to a pulp, Claire shifted her attention onto the guys and me. She took a couple steps towards us, running her eyes over us like we were gum stuck to the bottom of her boot or a stain on her four hundred dollar wrap-around sweater (yeah, I know the price...I saw it on the _Saks_ website).

"Crawford," Claire said, obviously still bitter that she (the unofficial Queen of Swathmore Academy) had lost the pageant to me (a lowly peasant at Seaford High). "Boys,"

Something in the Ice Queen changed, however, when she saw Jerry.

Suddenly the ice in her eyes melted and in its place was a fire which could've only been ignited by lust—or something like that. Her scowl morphed into a coy, little smirk as she walked towards Jerry, who quickly took a couple steps back, and—was she _glowing?_

Claire had really turned her charms up to the max.

"So we meet again," The blonde said seductively, looking predacious as she eyed the boy up and down. Was this a standard saying in the Turner household? Because if so, it was really flipping creepy (just saying!).

"_Yeah_..." Jerry squeaked, nervously looking around for a place to hide.

"You guys know each other?" Arthur asked incredulously, but Claire ignored him.

"I missed seeing you, Jerry." She went on, sticking with the whole "seductress" thing she had going. "Your eyes, your hair, your lips—_everything_. You know, I broke up with my boyfriend, Monty, to be with you and then you left me all alone at Swathmore. Which is fine—I _always_ like a good chase."

Claire lunged forward and Jerry screamed at the top of his lungs, flying backward to avoid her blood red claws—oops, I meant _nails_. Jack, Milton, Eddie and I leaped back so Jerry wouldn't fall on top of us, but Arthur wasn't so lucky. He cursed loudly—saying words my parents would probably shoot me for using—as Jerry fell on top of him, both their bodies slamming into the mats with a loud thud.

Before the rest of us could even react, Mr. Turner and Rudy were out of the office.

"Arthur!" Mr. Turner exclaimed, shocked. "Are you alright?!"

"I will be when this tub of fat gets _off_ me!" Arthur shrieked.

"Well Jerry, get off him!" Rudy yelled, acting as if his job was on the line (which it _wasn't..._I think) if Jerry didn't get up ASAP or something.

Like the good friend he was, Jack offered Jerry a hand which the other boy immediately took. By the count of three, Jerry was up on his feet, brushing himself off. Jack bent down and offered Arthur a hand but he refused, screaming that he could get up by himself. Jack let his hand linger by Arthur's collapsed body a little longer before he shrugged and straightened up, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

"Rudy, I think this is a good time for us to leave." Mr. Turner said. His face turned a rosy shade of pink as Arthur continued to yell and curse at the guys and me. He made a few weak attempts at placating his son but none of them seemed to work.

Arthur continued to scream and yell as Mr. Turner yanked him to his feet. Words tumbled out of Arthur's mouth faster than a freight train, so fast that we could barely tell one word apart from another. The few words we _could_ pick out though were...well...words I was surprised Arthur had the guts to yell in front of his father since he was so scared of being the presence of his step-sister.

Rudy looked horrified at the entire scene. He shot the guys and me accusatory looks as he frantically apologized for whatever the heck he thought we'd done to upset Arthur. Mr. Turner said that Rudy owed him no apology, but he was the one who owed _us _an apology for Arthur's behaviour. Regardless, Rudy continued to apologize, even asking to see the Turners out.

Mr. Turner turned away from us, embarrassed, as he grabbed his son by the shirt and tugged him away. "No, that's not necessary. Come on, Claire! Let's get going. Your father is expecting you for dinner and we have quite the drive."

Her lips curled into a self-righteous smirk, Claire skipped along behind her step-father as he dragged her step-brother right out the door. She paused at the arch and turned around, flirtatiously waving bye at Jerry and mouthing "call me" with a coy wink.

Honestly, Jerry looked more like he was going to throw up than anything else at Claire's overly flirty actions and I couldn't blame him. I probably would've too.

Long after Arthur's shrieks had faded, the guys and I stood in silence, guiltily looking downwards as Rudy glared at us (or at least _I _felt guilty since the whole thing with Arthur _was _kind of started by me. After I made my "functioning brain" comment, everything kind of went downhill. _Karma_). The silence was only broken by Jack's sneezing and subsequent nose blowing.

"Well," Rudy finally broke the awkward silence as he sat down on the bench. If looks could kill, we all probably would've been dead by now. "What the _heck _happened?"

"What do you mean?" I asked tentatively.

"I mean what I said." Rudy looked up at us. "What the _heck_ happened while Mr. Turner and I were in my office? I highly doubt Arthur would've been so upset if you guys hadn't done anything to him. So fess up. Why was Jerry on top of Arthur, hm? I think that would be a good place to start."

The guys and I exchanged nervous glances. There was a lot of stuff we were going to have to leave out if we were going to tell Rudy "the truth". We certainly couldn't tell him about our little one-on-one (or five-on-one) with Arthur revolving around his Black Dragon membership since that would involve revealing a ton of other stuff which would probably get us in more doo doo than it would be worth.

Eddie sighed. "Honestly Rudy, wouldn't believe us if we told you."

The rest of us nodded, but Rudy rolled his eyes as he peeled back the saran-wrap which engulfed Arthur's abandoned cookies and took one. We watched in horror as Rudy took a hugantic bite out of one of the snickerdoodles. "Try me,"

Jack and I exchanged knowing looks. We knew we had to tell Rudy where those cookies came from and just _who_ had made them. We couldn't just stand by and watch Rudy devour the potentially poisoned cookies. That would be too cruel.

Taking a deep breath, together we said, "Uh Rudy..."

* * *

><p><strong>* AN ***

**Once again, _HAPPY HOLIDAYS! _**

**I sincerely hope you all enjoyed the thirteenth chapter of _Vandals Anonymous_. I actually had a lot of fun writing it and I hope the good time I had working on the FanFic showed. Writing in a Kim!POV was something I hadn't done in a while so I certainly hope I didn't disappoint :)**

**Several things happened in this chapter including a revelation by Arthur that the Black Dragons may have something planned against the Warriors. There is also the insinuation that Jerry is hiding something very important from the rest of the Warriors. With these two points in mind, I believe it is time for you guys to start marking your calendars for an upcoming event in VA known as "_The BLACKOUT_". The BLACKOUT is going to be a pretty big event with some pretty big consequences for everyone...**

**So you guys are probably wondering what exactly happened on the "Trip to Remember" to make it so traumatizing for the gang. No? Okay. Regardless, I did write a Kim!Monologue about the trip so I might post it to the _AlphaBetaSoup_ Official Blog. Just maybe. In upcoming chapters there will be references to many other fictional occurrences. One is "Cruisin' for a Bruisin'", which talks about an event which occurred on a cruise the gang took. Another is "Let's Play Pretend", which is about the effects a horror movie had on everyone's favourite couple. **

**Once again, I'd like to say thank you to all my readers and reviewers for making this one fantastic year! I treasure each and every one of you!**

**_Merry ChristHannuKwanYule!_**

**ALPHA**

**PS: Once again, don't forget to hit up the _AlphaBetaSoup _official blog! See you soon at _alpha-and-beta-soup_. _tumblr_. _com!_**

**PPS: Isn't the new VA cover nice? All credit goes to the BETA portion of _AlphaBetaSoup!_**


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